


Gemini

by Laura_Stonebrooke



Series: Hell's Mark [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Sequel, Soul Corruption Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2018-11-21 08:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_Stonebrooke/pseuds/Laura_Stonebrooke
Summary: Elizabeth is dealing with everything years after her husbands death, the Funtom Company, being the watchdog and her fierce teenage children. When a case takes an unexpected twist it dredges up questions from her children that she never wanted to answer. Sequel to Soul Corruption, although prior reading not necessary as I have summed up main need-to-know-points inside.





	1. Chapter 1

A/N - This is a sequel to my other Kuro story, 'Soul Corruption', if you don't want to read 'Soul Corruption' due to its M rating, then only the following information is really needed: Ciel married Lizzie, Lizzie had an affair with Sebastian, Ciel inevitably died. I highly suggest reading 'Soul Corruption' for full context though no warnings - for once.

It was a dark smoggy night in London's east end. An immaculately well-dressed young man in a maroon suit with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes stood casually in quite possibly the dirtiest alley in the area. He stood smoking a rolled tobacco cigarette leaning against the wall with one ankle crossed over the other. The door he stood next to was equally shabby with the black paint peeling away and the dim hum of a dying gas lamp above it. From behind the door came a number of unholy screams and the sounds of breaking glass and wood, this went on for about 5 minutes before ceasing. The young man continued smoking the cigarette like nothing was wrong, until the door opened and his sharp blue eyes shot to the door at his left, his hand reached inside his jacket ready to shoot whom ever stepped out. He tensed slightly before relaxing when he saw the person immerging. A young woman - taller than the young man - with jet black hair, a pale complexion, a lithe narrow form and the darkest eyes you ever did see, walked out. Her dark navy dress was ripped and covered in blood spatter here and there, but she didn't seem to care much. The young man handed her a linen drawstring bag. She opened said bag and proceeded to take out a dress of the same design she was wearing and without hesitation she tore off the offended, tattered cloth and put on her new garment. Once she was changed, she reached back in to the bag and pulled out a pair of black gloves and slipped them neatly on. The young man threw his finished cigarette to the ground with his black, leather, gloved hands and extinguished it with his well-polished shoes. The young man pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to the young woman.

"You have red on your cheek." He stated bluntly. The young woman's expression was blank and unreadable as she took the handkerchief and swiped the crimson mark from her cheek. The young man took out another hand rolled cigarette from his silver case lit it and then continued, "What did you find out? Anything good?"

"No." The young woman folded the handkerchief and handed it back to the young man

"Really, care to expand on your findings Ceceila, I don't want to have to discuss business at Milward's party." He held an incredulous look as he spoke and took a long drag from his cigarette. With his blue eyes unblinking he stared at her until Ceceila looked away and sighed.

"Crippen is guilty, but we knew that already, the American boards the SS Remote in 5 days time so we have until then to catch him and deal with him. That is all I found out." she crossed her arms and started to leave the alley before the young man grabbed her arm. "Warren…." Her tone held unsaid warning.

"I understand you don't like these little excursions, but don't withhold information from me Ceceila, I can tell when you are lying, I'm your brother, and right now you are lying. You found out more information and you are going to tell me so that when we go to the party I can forget for a few hours that this is…what this is." The young man – Warren – spoke to his sister with a softer tone than before but no less relenting. He would know what she knew even if they had to stand in this alley all night.

"I told you, we have 5 days to find Dr. Crippen before he sails home for the states that is all I found, take it or leave it and let go of my arm." Ceceila could very easily pull out of his grip without much effort; she was much stronger than her brother who had a weak constitution and small stature. People often said how much he looked like their father and the same people often commented how for twins they looked so different. Warren released his grip on Ceceila's arm and took another deep inhale of his cigarette.

"Fine a compromise then, we will discuss it further at home with mother, since she wants to be kept in the loop with this one." Suddenly his whole demeanour changed and he clapped his hands together and plastered a large cheerful smile across his face that looked entirely out of place given their location and situation.

"Right, shall we head to the party then? I'm simply dying to try that new vintage that Milward had imported from Brussels." He held out an arm for his sister to take and she looped her arm around his unceremoniously. The two young beautiful nobles floated gracefully out of a dingy alley in the east end, looking shiny and pristine in comparison to their surroundings. They hailed a hansom cab and Warren - as the gentleman he is - opened the door for his sister, Ceceila, before she took his hand and climbed in. Anyone looking upon the sight would comment on how lovely they both looked, the epitome of English nobility. Truthfully, however, anyone who knew who they were knew that they were anything but.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2

Chapter 2

For Ceceila Phantomhive these parties were a duller affair than England's weather. The young pretty nobles her age were boring, their talk of tea and fashion was insipid and petty and she could not relate to any of the hobbies her peers took interest in. Most of the time she stood of to the side of whatever room had been chosen within the obscenely large townhouses and tried not to talk to anyone. Her grandmother constantly chastised her for this behaviour. Apparently it was a known rumour that Ceceila Phantomhive was 'odd', and that this behaviour was not the way a young lady in fashionable society should be behaving. Warren on the other hand took to these events like a fish to water; he enjoyed them and had the attention of most of the young ladies in the room. Ceceila always envied her brother's natural talent at socialising. He could fake a smile better than anyone she knew and his ability to feign interest in mind-numbing conversation was second to none. It also helped that he was incredibly charming, he could make almost anyone like him, Ceceila on the other hand was simply just, not charming - not that she had a problem with that. She spoke in short sentences with a low monotone that sounded like boredom 9 times out of 10 and threatening the rest of the time. If she did not like someone she made it painfully clear and she had little time for irrelevant conversation. Her appearance was also a contributing factor, she was taller than most and thinner, she struggled to fill out a corset and was fairly flat chested which was a constant source of annoyance for her because when she looked around the room she not only felt out of placed she so obviously looked it. On the way to the party she had untied her hair and let it fall around her shoulders. It would not curl no matter what she did to it; her hair was eternally straight, flat and pitch black. Warren had convinced her to let it down as he said she looked pretty and more feminine with it framing her face. She would never say aloud, but she had a secret wish to fit in with the other girls, she sometimes tried, but no matter what something always went wrong.

She stood observing the room as she always did drink in hand, sipping quietly not bothering anyone and not wishing to be bothered. Apparently though the young men approaching her could not read her obvious body language and approached her with swagger and obnoxious smirks that she would have happily knocked off of their faces.

"Well as I live and breath it's the elusive Ceceila Phantomhive, why don't you come and join the conversation Miss Phantomhive, I'm sure the girls would love to hear what you do for fun." the one that spoke was obviously the head of the pack he was large, loud and clearly wealthy.

"Thank you, but I'm fine where I am." Ceceila's lips were the only thing that moved her bored expression not changing and her body remaining stock straight. The three young men moved so that one was flanking her on each side essentially trapping her where she was. She did not like this one bit and could feel herself getting angry.

"Come now Miss Phantomhive, it's merely polite to engage in conversation at social events." The thinner man to her left said as he leaned closer, so close she could smell his whiskey laden breath "And you are quite the mysterious beauty, I would love to get to know you better if you understand my implication."

Ceceila simply stared straight at him, her temper was bubbling just below her skin, and in her head she was envisioning how she would destroy these obnoxious flesh bags in the most painful way possible. Then suddenly the young man to her left, proceeded to loop his arm around hers without permission and attempt to drag her from her space. She in turn planted her feet on the ground, grabbed his looped arm with her free hand and squeezed. The young man clearly wanted to shout in pain but his pride disallowed him. The other two stared at their friend wondering why he wasn't moving with them and why his face was turning red. They looked to Ceceila and were slightly taken aback by the fact that her expression had changed. It was no longer bored and lax, instead her eyes had lit up with mirth and she had a small mischievous smile on her face that grew the redder the young mans face became. Strangled noises were coming from the young man and he was probably on the verge of passing out from pain when there was an interruption.

"Milward, Jones, Cameron I haven't spoken to you all night!" Warren waltzed over his charming façade firmly in place and Ceceila instantly let go and untangled herself. "Fine vintage you have here Milward, and a cracking party as always. Cameron how is your sister? She recently got married did she not? To James Bently yes? I do hope she is doing well, one should always look out for one's family," Warren took a drag of his rolled cigarette "no matter how far away they are."

Cameron, the one whom Ceceila had had in a vice grip turned to the man who had interrupted and was about to thank him for the welcome intrusion before he noticed that his pleasant tone of voice did not match his face. His blue eyes were ice cold and piercing and his charming smile was nowhere to be seen. Milward, the large and loud one, threw his arm over Warren's shoulder.

"Oh come now Warren, Cameron was just having a little fun and forgive him this is his first party, no need to be so serious. Cameron, allow me to introduce Warren Phantomhive the most charming man in London and quite possibly the most well connected. Ceceila here is his sister, twin sister to be precise." He eyed Ceceila in a manner that she did not like, but she kept silent and let Warren handle this.

Warren's smile instantly reappeared and he held out a hand to Cameron and he shook it before removing Milward's arm from his person.

"So this is your first party Cameron, I could have sworn I saw you at the American ambassadors party with your parents 5 weeks ago, no?" Cameron visibly paled and his mouth opened and closed before Warren continued "Actually perhaps I was mistaken, it was probably someone else, there were so many people there it was difficult to keep track of everyone was it not Ceceila?"

"Not that difficult." Ceceila deadpanned. Warren shot her an annoyed look before turning back to the three men.

"Yes well, my sister does have a talent for remembering faces and their names, whereas I can remember names and not the faces that go with them. In that sense we make a good team" he chuckled along with his conversation partners before inhaling the last of his cigarette. "So Cameron, what is your business?"

Milward Interjected "Phantomhive it's a party! Must we talk business? If anything we should be enjoying the fine liquor and the company of pretty young ladies. Come I'll introduce you to Miss Daphne Ingram a stellar beauty if you ever did see one." And with that Warren was dragged away into the throng of people casting a final look at Ceceila as a warning to behave. Ceceila turned to Cameron before he left back for the crowd.

"Sorry I hurt your arm, you startled me is all." She said in a rather blunt manner, she still had not mastered apologies. Cameron looked at her with slight fear in his eyes before realising her attempt at an apology was genuine, he sighed.

"No I am the one who should be apologising, I grabbed the arm of a lady who clearly did not want to join the crowd. I'm terribly sorry for my behaviour Miss Phantomhive." He gave a small bow and with that he left to find his friends.

The party then continued without incident for both siblings, Warren very much enjoyed himself and Ceceila kept to herself observing from the sidelines as always. The hansom ride back to the townhouse was uneventful as both siblings were quiet. Warren was silent because he was drunk and Ceceila was silent because that was her natural state. As they reached the townhouse Warren stumbled out of the hansom and onto the pathway with as little grace as possible and tried to light a cigarette as he staggered towards the door. Ceceila walked past her drunken brother and up to the door and a man dressed in a butler's uniform with pale hair and unnaturally scaly skin opened it before she reached it. She walked straight into the house and spoke to Snake without glancing at him.

"Warren's had too much to drink, help him into bed Snake. I'll be staying up in the library." Ceceila strode straight for the library without waiting for an response from the butler. She entered the room, closed the door and relaxed. She sighed a deep sigh and felt every muscle in her body loosen. She hated being around people it caused a deep unease in her and she did not know why. She felt most comfortable when she was alone and there was barely anyone else around. The only person she was entirely comfortable around was Warren, even her own mother made her feel like she was out of her own skin. Ceceila sat in the silent darkness for a while before picking up a book on Greek mythology. She enjoyed these stories, with their wild plots and the Gods behaving in whatever way they desired. She saw these stories as a true reflection of human behaviour with the hero's of the stories not having the stereotypical perfect qualities of a hero but many flaws and misguided judgment.

She read for she knew not how long before she felt something off. The room was still, unusually so. She felt another presence in the room, but it wasn't Warren she could tell when he was near, it wasn't Snake either and there was no one else in the house. Ceceila silently put her book down and without making a sound pulled out a dagger from the garter under her skirts. She could see well in darkness and could move silently when she wanted to, but she could not see who was in the room with her. As she stood she turned and her eyes scanned the room, the townhouse library was not large and she could see all corners from her current position.

"I would put that down if I were you, a blade such as that will not hurt me." A disembodied voice spoke from somewhere in the darkness. It had a deep smooth timbre and sounded familiar to her.

"Show yourself." Posturing with words was Warren's forte not hers and as such she was not good at making verbal threats. The grip on her dagger tightened and her footing switched so that if someone came at her she would be able to strike swiftly. Then from the corner of the room she heard the clack of shoe heels on the wooden floor. She turned on her own heel faster than the human eye could catch and made quick for the intruder but was stopped short in her attack by the intruders speed matching her own. Her wrist was grabbed as she tried to slice at him, so she jumped up and kicked off his legs before back flipping and landing on the table behind her.

From this vantage point she got a good look at him. He was tall with pitch-black hair that was longish and styled to sharp points. His clothing(?) was skin tight and reflected what little light there was. His trousers were also skin tight and smooth and his shoes were unnaturally high. His nails were long almost talon like and they were painted black; it was a stark contrast against his skin. His skin was pale; paler than hers, but the most striking thing was his eyes. They were glowing red and she found herself staring intently into them. As she stared she realised that this person was different she did not feel the same revulsion she did around everyone else. Ceceila knew – somehow - he wasn't a threat to her she was also surprised to find that she wasn't scared of whatever this person was.

"Who are you?" Ceceila felt herself dropping her dagger as she stared longer into the creature's eyes.

"Me? I am whomever you wish me to be, but I believe the question should be who are you?" his voice sounded to her like music after a long period of deathly silence and she wanted to hear more of his words, so she did something she rarely did, she started a conversation.

"I am Ceceila Phantomhive." She said timidly she was not sure how to have a friendly conversation with a stranger. The strange creature chuckled deep and low.

"My dearest I know your name, but who are you? Are you a good person, or a bad one? A philanthropist or a conman? A truth teller or an illusionist?" he paused at her lack of response. "Perhaps it is too early yet, then tell me Ceceila Phantomhive what is it that you want, right now in this moment, what is it that you truly want?" the creature stood staring into what felt like her soul for a long time. Ceceila stared back and then she felt something trickle down her cheek, she swiped her hand thinking it to be blood, but when there was no red on her palm she realised she was crying. Why would she be crying? She never cried.

"I want a friend, someone who understands me." She spoke without really giving the words much thought.

"You have your brother does he not understand you little one?" the familiarity with which he spoke to her felt normal although she knew it wasn't. The tears were now flowing freely and she couldn't stop them.

"Warren loves me, I know but I am different, I try hard not to be but I just am, I hate people I feel so much anger all the time. I just want to...uh!" Her breathing was heavy and increasing in speed and she wanted to scream.

"You want to what little one? Tell me." The creature was smiling and a dark aura was emanating from him and Ceceila only subconsciously noticed that he had fangs.

"I want to kill them all! All the time! I want to rip their bodies apart and eat their hearts and I hate that I think this! I understand it is not sane for someone to have these thoughts, but what can I do…my own family would lock me up in bedlam if I said anything." Deflated she slumped down on top of the table she was standing on and stared off into nothingness questioning her sudden outburst. What was she doing? She should be scared or at least fighting whatever this was.

Suddenly the creature's talon grip was around her cheeks and his face was inches from hers.

"My precious, black, little bird…tomorrow you will have no memory of this, but you will have what you desire, you will not see it straight away, but you will have a friend." The creature closed his pale eyelids and brought her forehead to his black lips and placed a small kiss there. "I have always watched over you and you have grown to be darker than I could have wished for."

Ceceila felt her mind melting away, but she also felt warmth and a belonging that she had never experienced in her life. So her next words were said in a unconscious, delirious mumble, but were heard by the creature none the less.

"I love you father…" darkness enveloped her and she drifted off with Morpheus into the land of dreams, forgetting any visions of dark raven like creatures in libraries.

A/N Stay tuned for the next chapter coming soon and be a darling and give us a follow and review. Cheers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3

Sun was streaming bright through the curtains as Warren cracked his dry eyes open. The birds were tweeting and he realised he was still in his clothes from last night or at least half his clothes. He had at some point taken off his waistcoat, jacket, and tie and had passed out on top of his bed with one shoe partially off and the other somewhere in his room. He groaned as he moved up and rang for Snake to run a bath. Warren got up and moved to tidy up his room and find his cigarettes, but upon finding the small silver case he was be loathed to find it was empty and this only made him groan further. A knock at the door turned his head and he watched as Snake slithered into the room and stood in silence waiting for his command.

Warren's usually smooth charming voice was hoarse and weak from his hangover.

"Run me a bath would you Snake, also bring me new papers and tobacco and if you could something for this damned headache," he paused as he felt his balance going so he sat down "And tell Ceceila I will be skipping breakfast."

"I have ran a bath already for you sir. Says Wordsworth. Your papers and tobacco are downstairs waiting for you. Says Bronte. And it is two o'clock in the afternoon so we figured you'd skip breakfast. Says Webster." Snake finished talking and simply stood while Warren took in the information and then paled.

"It's already two o'clock!? We need to be back at the estate for four o'clock! Snake ready a carriage – actually no, arrange for us one of those new automobiles to take us to the edge of London then further arrange for a carriage to take us the rest of the way to the estate. Forget my bath and food, but which room is my tobacco in and I will roll them on the way." The orders flew out of Warren's mouth, as it was now second nature to him. He was told his papers and tobacco were in the reading room. Then he scrambled around the room grabbing whatever clean clothes he could find and raced out the door. Leaving Snake and his snakes to pack his bags.

They were going to be late for the dinner at the estate if they did not get home in time and he promised mother he would be there. She said that tonight's dinner was important and that she wanted both her children there and if there was one thing he hated doing it was letting his mother down. He raced down the townhouse stairs tying his necktie as he went and was annoyed to find Ceceila sitting in the foyer bags packed ready to go.

"Why did you not wake me up? You knew we had to back by four." He wasn't expecting an answer as he strode with purpose to the reading room. His annoyance was reaching his limit when he could not find his tobacco and papers.

"Where are my cigarette's? For the love of god all I want is a smoke!" he turned round and Ceceila was right in front of him holding a tray of neatly hand rolled prime tobacco sticks.

"I took the liberty of rolling them for you." Ceceila handed the tray to her brother and he gratefully took it and in silence refilled his silver case. Then he took one lit it and felt himself relax as he let the fumes course through his body.

"I would say thank you, but I am still annoyed that you did not allow Snake to wake me up this morning. Why did you stop him?" Warren asked, the exasperation still obvious his voice

"You were very drunk last night…and I must have been as well as I cannot seem to remember much from last night. In fact the last thing I remember was getting into the hansom on the way back from the party. I told Snake to let you lie this morning, I had completely forgot we had to be home by four today and as soon as I remembered I informed Snake. I am sorry Warren this is my fault." Ceceila looked genuinely sorry and slightly confused.

This information that Ceceila had forgotten worried Warren as his sister always had her faculties about her and was always on her guard, the fact that she did not remember anything from the night before did not sit well with him. Not one bit. He stored this information for later and would investigate all members of the party to see if it was possible that drugs had been slipped her way. Looking at her face he could see that she was concerned about the fact she could not remember as well in fact upon closer inspection she looked paler than normal and her demeanour was…off.

"Are you alright Ceceila? You seem as if you are somewhere else." he took her hand to get her full attention.

"I am fine, simply tired is all." She tried a smile but Ceceila was terrible at faking her emotions and Warren knew this, it was one of the main reasons she held a blank expression most of the time.

Unable to think of anything to say Warren took her into his arms and hugged her tight, Ceceila brought her arms up in front of her chest defensively and stood still and her brother embraced her. As he hugged her he was acutely aware of his height and stature and how different they were physically, but he never brought it up, as he knew it was an incredibly sensitive issue for his twin.

Warren was really the only one who was privy to these little emotional moments she had, not even their mother saw this side to her. Ceceila was deeply emotional and felt more keenly than anyone he knew, but she did not know how to handle these emotions. So she 'blanked' them as she called it by essentially cutting all emotion off and choosing not to feel, which she was unnervingly good at. Ceceila was incredibly dear to him and he loved her and would defend her from London's high society until the day he died - however Warren would never ever say- but sometimes she scared him. The way she behaved at points was unnatural and borderline inhuman. When they were working a case and someone was not talking she could sometimes make them talk without so much as touching them, she simply stared straight into their eyes as if weighing their soul for judgement and the quarry would start speaking and be unable to stop. When she did have to use violence Warren preferred not to be present, he had witnessed it once and wished oh so many times he could erase it from his mind. The way the man's arm had twisted and the way the bones cracked and poked through the skin- it was stomach churning and had chilled him to the bone. He never wondered where the violent streak came from. Warren had heard enough stories of Ciel Phantomhive to know that he was a cruel bastard, even if his mother insisted otherwise. He only hoped that his sister would not turn out like their father, both he and his mother actively tried to do everything to avoid this outcome.

Snake walked up to the two of them and informed them that the automobile was here. Warren and Ceceila made their way out to the new wonderment of technology as snake lifted the bags into the machine and then cranked the gears and started to move off. As the machine chugged along London's streets Warren kept looking at Ceceila her forehead was in a perpetual frown and she was looking intently at her hands clasped on her knees. Warren felt his stomach twist in irrational guilt as he knew at this point what the problem was but he did not have a solution and he felt helpless. He hoped that tonight's dinner would take her mind off of her lack of memory and that whatever it was that mother wished to talk about, it wasn't anything that would cause further upset.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4

It was pleasant weather at the Phantomhive estate. The birds were singing, the sun shone brightly in the gardens, and a gentle gust would ruffle the immaculately kept flowers and hedges. The servants were busying themselves around the estate with their various duties, there now being many more servants in the employ of the family then there had been when the former Earl had been in charge.

Lady Elizabeth Countess of Phantomhive, was talking to head maid (and sniper) Mei Rin about the seating arrangement for tonight's dinner when she heard a carriage pull up through one of the open windows. She rushed through the dinning hall and foyer, out the grand front door and was greeted by a most pleasant sight. Her children were on time. She had sworn she thought they'd be late. She walked down the stairs and embraced the two of them, one arm for each. Warren responded in kind and Ceceila – as usual – merely stood still and let it happen.

"I am so happy you two are back, tell me, how was London? Did you attend any parties? Warren, did any young ladies take your fancy?" Elizabeth linked arms with both of them as she walked them into the house. "Ceceila I took the liberty of ordering you a lovely new dress for tonight it will most certainly suit you my darling and Warren there is a new suit for you upstairs as well. I want you both on your best behaviour tonight as we have some special guests joining us. Warren no practical jokes, Ceceila no uncouth remarks, best behaviour am I clear."

Elizabeth was in high spirits and excited, she didn't think she had been this excited since her wedding day. She was smiling and her eyes - although older - were twinkling with happiness, things were good for her at this moment in time and she was happy. She had two beautiful children whom she loved, a successful international business and respect from London's elite as the Lady Phantomhive.

"Mother must you always inquire as to my love life, when I meet a lady I'll be sure to tell you, you will probably be the first person to know. " Warren could not help the blush that appeared on his face.

"I had best be. I would not like to find out you had a reputation Warren." His mother smiled at him knowingly.

Warren laughed as his blush grew and he scratched the back of his blonde head.

"I think I will go and get ready for dinner I have not had a chance to wash up from last night." And with that ungraceful change of topic he sheepishly ran away up the stairs.

Elizabeth laughed to herself and turned to her daughter, she noticed that Ceceila was silent and had not said a word since arriving home. Now this was not unusual but her expression - normally it would have been blank or somewhat bored - but she looked concerned worried even.

"Ceceila, darling, are you alright? You seem anxious." Elizabeth walked with her daughter through to the east parlour and they sat down and Elizabeth rang for tea. In a rare instance Ceceila decided to speak openly.

"Mother…what was father like?" Ceceila's tone was skittish and unsteady, unlike her as she was usually so blunt.

Her daughter looked Elizabeth dead in the eye with her darker than black eyes and it made her nervous, her heart rate increased and her happy expression faded and was replaced with a mouth pressed into a thin line and the sudden urge to look anywhere but at the teenager.

It was at this point Mei Rin excused herself into the room. There was a prolonged silence as the sniper turned maid clumsily came in with tea and placed it on the table with a little help from Elizabeth so that boiling water did not spill everywhere. It was only after the door was closed and it was just the two of them that the conversation resumed. Elizabeth smiled a small smile at her daughter.

"I have told you before that your father was a very good man, he worked hard to make sure that you and Warren would want for nothing, he was kind and caring. He always treated me to presents and cute things when I-"

"You're lying."

Elizabeth sighed. "Ceceila I have told you before you do not call people liars in polite society it-"

"Stop changing the subject mother. I know, as does Warren, that our father was a cruel man we hear it from the people who worked with him in London. Why are you hiding that from us? Did you think that we would not find out given the work that you and the King make us do, it was inevitable."

"I do not make you do the work of the watchdog I am preparing you for-"

"Stop. Changing. The. Subject." A dark aura was emanating from the young Phantomhive and the shadows seemed to shift and flicker around her.

There was a long silence in which mother and daughter were locked in a heated stare. Elizabeth's breathing was quick and she was fidgeting with the lace in her dress she desperately wanted to break eye contact and look away but she knew, she knew that because of the way Ceceila was that she would force the truth from her. Elizabeth could feel the words on the tip of her tongue and it was taking all she had not to blurt out everything. She suddenly remembered something that he had done, he could not lie but he never told the whole truth either. Elizabeth took a deep breath and chose her next words carefully.

"Your father loved me in his own way. He had a charming voice and captivating eyes; he dressed well and had a strong work ethic. True, at times he was rough and he could be cruel, but he gave me you and I would not for a second wish for anything more than exactly that." Elizabeth did not allow her voice to waver and she picked her cup up to sip her hot tea.

She had allowed that the statement could be applied to either the former Phantomhive head or his butler, therefore telling the truth but not the whole truth. Ceceila seemed to accept this as she sensed no lie and sat back in her chair and lifted her tea, although her worried expression was still present on her face.

"Now Ceceila I believe I am due an explanation and an apology." Elizabeth put her cup down gently. "Firstly I am your mother and you do not speak to me in that manner. Secondly, what in the world brought this line of questioning on? Did something happen in London?" Elizabeth resumed sipping her tea while waiting for the explanation.

"Sorry mother I…It is nothing, it's silly." Ceceila stood and left the parlour faster then humanly possible and as Elizabeth watched her daughter speed out of the room like lightning she suspected that whatever it was it had something to do with the crow.

Elizabeth reached her free hand round to the back her neck and brushed her finger over the small black mark on her skin, she had not noticed the thing for a whole 3 years. It was only when Ceceila had started displaying 'unusual' abilities as a toddler that it had started to tingle slightly, therefore alerting her to its presence. Elizabeth knew better than to push Ceceila to an answer, she would lock whatever was bothering her up in her head and it prying it out of her would be as easy as prying open a vault. Her spirits had been dampened somewhat, but she was determined not to let this ruin her evening. Her guests would be arriving soon and this thought brought back a small smile. She then decided that she would finish her tea, let the evening play out as it would and then tomorrow she would deal with Ceceila's strange behaviour.

Elizabeth stood standing in the foyer waiting to receive her guests, her two children stood proudly next to her.

Warren wore his brand new pinstripe moss green suit with a dark brown waistcoat and an off white shirt. He had tided his blonde hair up if only slightly, but it never did what it was told anyway. His ever-present cigarette was held loosely at his side and the outline of his silver case could be seen in his pocket.

Ceceila stood in a light lilac dress with full-length sleeves and a high neck that had a cream under blouse and a corset that felt like it was squeezing her insides into mush. She admitted only to herself that this dress actually did suit her; Mei Rin had said that this was the latest up and coming fashion and that soon all the girls in London would be wearing it. Her hair had been tied into a tight bun that sat on the top of her head, they had at first tried to get the bottom to poof out but her straighter than straight hair would not go any other way. Mei Rin had also insisted on putting coal and a light purple paste on her eyelids and as such her dark eyes stood out and looked even darker, she thought she did not look as odd as she usually did. She maybe even thought she looked pretty.

A carriage pulled up and Elizabeth quickly gave the both twins a once over making sure they were suitable for their guests. As the door opened a large older man with thick black-grey hair, matching bushy beard, a tall broad countenance and a rugged face stepped through. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt with a black waistcoat admonished with silver buttons. However he did not wear trousers but a red and black tartan kilt, instantly betraying his nationality as that of Scotland not England. His expression was pleasant and he held a soft smile on his face as he looked towards Elizabeth. Next to him was a young woman who must have been roughly the same age as Ceceila and Warren. She had thick, slightly curly, dark brown hair, blue eyes, and a pale face with rosy cheeks. She wore a light brown dress that had hints of the same tartan the older man wore running through it. The fashion was older at least a few years and her dark hair was loose and flowing and not tied neatly as was the fashion.

There was a butler who was at the back of the party bringing bags in and he was joined by snake as they helped move the luggage upstairs.

"M'Lady it is wonderful to see you again." He stepped up to Elizabeth and bowed in front of her as he kissed her hand. His voice was low and weathered but it was sincere and kind.

"It is my pleasure Laird Sinclair. Ceceila, Warren this is John Sinclair the 17th Earl of Caithness and his daughter Miss Margaret Sinclair. They will be staying with us for a week at my invitation." She turned back to her guests. "Now I imagine you two are hungry from the trip from London. Dinner will be served in one hour, so Warren please show Laird Sinclair to his room and Ceceila please show Miss Margaret to hers." Elizabeth left no room for negotiation or argument from her children as being used as tour guides. So they snapped to.

"If you please Lord, ah sorry, Laird Sinclair this way" Warren said. His smile and charming voice made it seem as if the Laird was most welcome.

"Lead the way young Warren and if you will you can call me Mr. Sinclair, no need to be overly formal."

Warren merely smiled as he led Sinclair away to his room.

Ceceila looked at the young woman and instantly felt an irrational contempt towards her.

"This way." Ceceila walked quickly forcing Miss Sinclair to almost run to keep up.

"Your dress is very fashionable Miss Phantomhive, I wonder if you might tell me wear you had it made?" her Highland accent was strong and her attempts to hide it were in utter vain.

"I do not know my mother had it made for me. I have no interest in fashion." Ceceila's blunt tone did not seem to have the desired effect as the girl kept opening and shutting her mouth.

"Really? Well I will say tis a relief I have no interest in fashion either. I was merely told that that is what all the fashionable London girls like to talk about. Truthfully I am interested in hunting and riding more than anything, do you ride or hunt Miss Phantomhive?" at this point Margaret Sinclair was now running to keep up with Ceceila's quick pace.

"Both. This is your room if you need anything ask Mei Rin." And with that she turned on her heel and left as fast as she could. Really, she was quite annoying. Annoying because Ceceila had sensed no ill will coming from the girl nor were any snobbish remarks spoken. She was a good person and it irked her. She hated good people, they brought out a side to her she'd rather not think about, a side that made her think about doing appalling acts to said person.

When it was time for dinner a bell was rung and everyone in the party made their way down to the dining hall. The seating arrangement was a strange one. Usually Elizabeth would be sat at the head of the table, however on this occasion she was sat sitting opposite Laird Sinclair with Warren sitting opposite Margaret and Ceceila sitting next to her. The conversation through out dinner was very standard; weather the state of London's youth, new expositions due to be showcased at the crystal palace and of course how each persons estates faired. However once the food was finished and new coffee was brought out from Britain's colonies in the Americas that was when the atmosphere shifted.

There was a lengthy silence, which was followed by Laird Sinclair and Lady Phantomhive making awkward eye contact then Laird Sinclair announced something wholly unexpected. Warren choked on his coffee and started coughing uncontrollably, Margaret dropped her spoon and Ceceila stared with pure unbridled fury at the large bearded Scottish man who was holding hands with her mother.

Marriage. No. No, it can't happen. They cannot get married they do not know one another. He is not her father, and that silly little Margaret is certainly not her sister. Ceceila's mind was working overtime when she was met with the overwhelming urge to throw something at Sinclair. So she did. Ceceila – in complete silence with a now blank expression - starting throwing coffee cups, vases - whatever she could grab - at the happy couple in pure rage. She knew she should stop but she could not control her actions. She simply saw red and wanting nothing more than to obliterate any trace of happiness from their faces. Ceceila then abruptly ceased her actions and left because if she didn't leave she would end up hurting Warren by accident and she could not forgive herself if she did.

Nothing had actually hit anyone which was a good enough reason for Elizabeth to believe that it had gone as well as it possibly could have gone with Ceceila and she squeezed Sinclair's hand in confirmation that everything wold be alright.

Warren -having recovered from his coughing fit – was the first to break the silence "You are to marry him? But we have never met him before not even once, this is the first time- I do not know- I cannot-" there was a pause in which Warren simply stared at the wall opposite "Why?" he said exasperated

"Warren you may not know him but I do and I ask that you find it in your heart to afford me this happiness. I understand that you will have mixed feelings about the situation, but please understand that I have been on my own for a little over 17 years. John has also been on his own since his wife died so not only is this an advantageous marriage it is a good match." His mother looked at Sinclair with a smile on her face that Warren had not seen before. Then it was the Scots turn to speak.

"Your mother is an extraordinary woman and I respect her strength and admire her beauty young Warren and I understand that this will be hard for both you and your sister to accept but I hope that given time you'll see me as a father figure and that you'll treat Margaret as a sister." Sinclair looked and sounded so sincere that it was stupidly difficult for Warren to dismiss him and do what his twin had done and stormed out.

As he was the more emotionally aware of the two he decided that he would speak to Ceceila later and bring her round to an understanding even if he had to manipulate the truth slightly. All of this felt incredibly overwhelming and he automatically reached for his cigarettes and lit one with practised motion.

"I think I will smoke outside tonight." he stated, then got up to move but not before he was mirrored by Miss Sinclair.

"Mind if I join you?" she said and without waiting for an answer she followed Warren through a side door and out to a veranda.

"I wanted to leave the happy couple to their musings, can I have a smoke?" she spoke in a quiet more subdued way than she had initially. She was handed a cigarette and Warren struck a match for her to light up with.

"I am happy for them. When my father said we were coming here I thought he might announce something like this. I knew he had been sending and receiving letters from a woman, it did not take much to put two and two together. Add the fact that my father is dreadful at hiding things from anyone and that he became as excited as a child on Christmas when reading those letters and it did not take much to come to truth." She took a long inhale of her cigarette. "This is good tobacco."

"Thank you I had it imported from America, it is a new blend from the south." He was looking straight out into the darkness of the estate grounds. The nights blackness was the same colour as Ceceila's eyes he had always thought.

"Your sister was not happy I think." Miss Sinclair spoke tentatively.

"She does not handle new people or change with very much grace, but I am sure she will come round. I will have to speak with her however. I doubt mother could say anything at this point in time that would bring Ceceila round to her perspective." He inhaled once more. "She is a little different from everyone else as you will inevitably come to see Miss Sinclair."

"Well then you must give me some advice if I am to get along with my new sister and please call me Margaret." Miss Sinclair turned around and smiled a genuinely kind smile at the young blonde Phantomhive.

Warren could not help but smile back and the thought that 'this young woman would be a breath of fresh air at the estate' fleetingly went through his head and then just as quickly left.

"Patience and calm. I would say is key with Ceceila, she has little regard for others feelings and will say what she means, do not get angry with her. In a fight, just remember you will always lose to her. Even if technically you won make her think she did." He chuckled at his own remark and Miss Sinclair followed suit. Her laugh was airy and light, it sounded like spring Warren thought.

"That sounds awfully complicated, I think I will simply treat her as I treat everyone I know, with kindness and compassion. I am sure she will warm to me eventually." She smiled and looked out into the darkness of the estate and crossed her arms over her body. "It is getting quite cold perhaps we should return to the dinning room to give our formal congratulations to our parents."

"A stellar idea, Margaret." They both extinguished the last of their cigarettes and flicked the butts onto the ground. Warren gestured his arm outwards "Ladies first." and he bowed slightly. Margaret laughed again, and again Warren found himself unable to not join in, honestly he swore her laugh was contagious.

A/N Surprise! Lizzy's getting hitched. Do not worry dear readers Sebastian will show his devilishly handsome face in the next chapter when we return to London and to the continued investigation of the Crippen case. What do you think will happen?


	5. Chapter 5

:5:

The Phantomhive twins were not particularly happy about their current situation, if for different reasons. They had had a plan to catch (kill) the murderer Dr. Crippen upon their return to London, however that plan was not playing out as hoped. Upon the surprise engagement of their mother to the large burly Scotsman - their mother had insisted they take Margaret along with them to London to show her the other side of the family business. Warren had fought with her and argued that this was not the right time to introduce Margaret to something so disturbing, that she was too innocent and would not understand the violent yet discreet purpose of the watchdog. Their mother in turn had stated with a heavy heart that 'innocence does not last' and that now was as good as ever.

Ceceila had no problem showing the sickly sweet girl the darker side of her family, perhaps then the little cretin would relay the information to her father and then they would leave. Ceceila wanted them as far away from Warren and her mother as they could possibly be.

So as it was the three young nobles were sat in what had to be the most unpleasant and awkward carriage ride ever experienced.

At the start it had not been so bad, but Warren, despite his charms had given up on lightening the mood about 30 minutes into the ride due to Ceceila's death glares when Margaret had started asking questions about the file their mother had given her. Margaret was not deterred however and kept asking questions determined to be of some help the next day. It was at this point that Ceceila snapped the folder from her hands, set it on fire, threw it out of the carriage and proceeded to climb out the window onto the roof. All without saying a single word. Warren's attempts at smoothing over the situation were less than successful, but to his surprise Margaret stated she did not need an explanation and simply said smiling she would help in any way she could. The rest of the ride went in silence, Ceceila only returned back inside when rain began, followed by the start of ominous thunder and lightning.

By the time the 3 reached the Phantomhive townhouse the weather had turned from bad rain into a full-blown storm. They rushed to get inside and Snake and some other servants brought everything down from the hansom as fast as they could. Even the short run from the gate to the door had soaked their clothes through and the wind had thoroughly mussed their appearances.

Warren removed the wet cigarette from his mouth and placed it in the ashtray in the townhouse foyer. He shook his arms and large spats of water flew onto the floor.

"God I'm utterly soaked! How is it that the English weather can be sun and roses in the morning and the bloody rapture by the evening?" he proceeded to light up a fresh cigarette and offered one to Margaret who politely declined by shaking her head.

Margaret laughed "This is nothing, when you visit our home in Caithness you will see a true storm. Our castle is right on the sea and the winds fair batter the walls come winter. But I tell you Warren tis a beautiful thing to look out the tower window in a gale knowing you are safe from the power of the sea and the wind. And when the lightning occasionally lights up the waves you can swear you would see the Selkies beckoning you out to sea never to return." She made a wriggling with her fingers in the air in an attempt at a scary gesture and Warren just laughed.

"Sounds terrifying I'm sure." He said voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let's get out of these clothes and warm up by the fire. What do you say Ceceila?" he looked around for his sister who had vanished. "Ceceila?"

Ceceila had locked herself in the library and was looking for a book to calm her down. Really she was quite furious. This whole thing was a giant mess, she had had a very good plan that involved ripping Crippen to pieces like he did to his victims then have Warren pay for a corpse from bedlams morgue to be dressed and placed at the crime scene Then the two would set the scene up as a revenge suicide by a former lover and allow Scotland Yard to find it. After all the infamous doctor did have many lovers, it was a good plan. Now, however, that plan was impossible. Ceceila and Warren now had to babysit a pure hearted girl and protect her from harm yet at the same time introduce her to the duties of the watchdog? It was stupid. She had no idea what her mother was thinking, but whatever it was it was stupid. She kicked the table leg in childish retaliation, when the doorbell suddenly rang and thunder crashed loud overhead. Ceceila ignored it and knew Snake would answer.

She was just settling into a chair when she heard a loud exclamation and something falling over in the foyer. She dashed out with her inhuman speed only to stop immediately in confusion. Snake had wrapped several of his snakes around the body of a man pining him to the floor rendering him unable to move. The confusing part was that this man was smiling

"You have no business here says Webster" Snake looked exceedingly angry and Ceceila had never seen the usually calm butler so irate.

"On the contrary Snake I have every business here, in fact I am here at my Lady's behest. I am surprised the Countess did not mention my imminent return to serving the oh-so-noble house of Phantomhive." As he said these words he slipped with ease out of the snakes bonds, stood up and straightened his clothing.

He wore black tailcoats, with matching black trousers, a maroon waistcoat, a white shirt, black shoes and pristine white gloves. His skin was deathly pale and his hair jet black and straight, but despite his immaculate appearance that was not what Ceceila was looking at. His eyes seemed incredibly familiar, but she could not place where from.

"Forgive me, my young lady this is hardly how I wished to introduce myself." He walked over to Ceceila with an air and presence she could not quite describe. "My name is Sebastian Michaelis former head butler of the house of Phantomhive and former personal butler to the late Earl Ciel Phantomhive." He raised Ceceila's hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back, his eyes never once leaving hers.

Her mind was blank she couldn't think, normally no one would be able to get so close yet here was this man being far too familiar with her. A rally of emotion stormed around in her chest and her mind was clouded what was this feeling.

"Ceceila!" In haste Warren pulled a small gun from his jacket and pointed it directly at Sebastian's head. "You will get away from her and explain yourself sir, lest I shoot you in the head." His words were said with and icy coldness that matched his piercing blue eyes and in response the man smiled a peculiar smile and walked calmly towards him until the barrel of the gun was directly against his forehead.

"My, my we are rash aren't we." His expression had changed to one of mild annoyance. "You do not even know my intent yet you point a gun at my head."

"Am I foolish to do so sir? I think not when you barge so familiarly into my home, threaten my sister and escape the confines of 6 tropical snakes." Warren was keeping his calm although he knew something about this man was not right.

"Well then you should think young Phantomhive, that if I can escape the confines of 6 tropical snakes, how far will a bullet go in stopping me?" Sebastian then took the gun in his hand and crushed it in a single squeeze.

Warren panicked. This man was not human, like Snake he was some form of supernatural being, he racked his brain for a comeback and strangely could think of nothing. The comeback however came form an unlikely source.

"You said you were here at Countess Phantomhive's request correct? If that is indeed true I doubt she would like you threatening her children." Margaret timidly crept out from behind the drawing room door where she had witnessed everything.

Sebastian stepped away from Warren and turned to the girl. "Quite right I do hope you will forgive me. My behaviour was not befitting that of a servant of Phantomhive. I will behave as I should have from the start." He got down on one knee in front of Warren and bowed his head with his right hand over his chest. "I, Sebastian Michaelis, humbly re-instate myself, by order of the Countess, as the personal butler to the young master of the Phantomhive family. I am yours to command my Lord."

"No thank you I already have a butler and he's quite able. I will write to my mother explaining you are not needed and you will be reimbursed any travel fees, my apologies for pointing a gun at you, you can go now." And with that he took out and lit a cigarette, then put an arm around the timid girl in the corner by the door and they walked towards the drawing room.

Sebastian eyes shot up and he stood and stared at the young man who had point blank refused him. He had never been denied like that.

"Warren wait, he used to serve father as his butler." The rare apprehension in Ceceila's voice stopped Warren in his tracks. He turned back to look at Ceceila and then the butler in question. He ushered Margaret back to the drawing room before speaking.

"Snake served father too, as did Bardroy, Finny and Mei-Rin, so I see no reason to take on another servant" he was goading the butler to see how he would answer and what he really wanted. "Also forgive me Mr. Michaelis was it? But you seem far too young to have served my father as his butler, if you are indeed who you say you are, you would be well into your forties by now and you do not look a day over twenty one." Warren was becoming confident this man was a fraud.

"I am older than I look young master, and I wish only to serve the Phantomhive family and provide perfection in every order carried out. If you doubt my credentials why not ask Snake here, he knew me as your fathers loyal butler and I'm sure he would speak only praise of my work." Sebastian glared at Snake the familiar glare that was used to strike fear into the hearts of the Phantomhive servants.

Suddenly all eyes were on Snake and he felt that whatever was said here would influence master Warren's decision in whether Sebastian stayed or went. He needed to tell the truth, but with Miss Ceceila present it was impossible without creating further problems. After Earl Ciel's death him and the rest of the servants found what had happened, Tanaka had told them all on his deathbed. The kidnapping, the contract, the murders, the demon, the affair, and Ceceila. He was under strict instruction never to tell Ceceila anything and he certainly could not do that now. He looked at his beloved snakes and suddenly felt like he was back in the cage at the freak show, trapped and helpless. Lady Elizabeth had been so good to him he could not betray her trust like this, but then letting Sebastian back into the house of Phantomhive could be an even bigger mistake. He realised someone was calling his name.

"..ake, Snake can you answer me please?" It was Warren.

"Sorry I did not hear you says Wordsworth." Snake was trembling he did not know what to say.

"I asked you to recount what Mr. Michaelis' behaviour was like as butler to my father, if he was ever in that position" Warren scoffed through his cigarette.

Snake paused for a long time before speaking. "He was the perfect butler, everything Mr. Sebastian did he did to perfection, he never lied to Master Ciel and was loyal to him until the end says Bronte. A true servant of the Phantomhive name says Webster."

"Then why did you try to choke him Snake?" asked Ceceila

"You must not concern yourself with the trivialities of us mere servants my young mistress, it was merely that the last time we spoke I said some rather cruel things to Snake, which I of course have reflected upon and now take back with recompense, you will accept my apology will you not Snake?" Sebastian smiled his crow's smile and Snake merely nodded, his eyes downcast.

Warren stood in silence weighing the situation. Yes snake had given this Sebastian Michaelis a glowing recommendation, but his intuition was screaming at him not to trust this man, everything about him seemed devious. While it was not uncommon for his family to hire unusual servants, this one seemed downright strange, also why if he was such an amazing butler did he not stay on after his father's death. He had too many questions and not enough answers, so he made a decision.

"You can stay, but I am to contact my mother as soon as possible to make sure she did actually enlist your help and this is not just some ruse for whatever your true siliceous intent is." Warren said.

"You wound me young master I would never go against My Lady, as I said I live to serve this family and is she not its matriarch?"

"Hmph. Snake set a room in servants quarters for Michaelis here."

"No need young master I know this place like the back of my hand" he chuckled as he held up his gloved left hand and waved it. He walked away and surprisingly Snake followed after him like a puppy with his tail between his legs. Warren thought this was odd but gave it no further thought.

The whole time throughout Ceceila had been unable to help, simply because she did not want this man-no this person to go. She was sure he was not human that much was obvious, but her real curiosity came from his familiarity. For once in her life she felt utterly comfortable around someone even more so than Warren, Ceceila did not want to let go of that feeling and although she knew it was selfish she would do everything she could to keep Sebastian here.

"Ceceila? If you do not want him here I will send him-"

"No." Warren's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "I want him to stay Warren." Ceceila's voice was firm yet her blank expression was back in place.

"You do not trust him either" he nodded "I am glad we are of the same mind. Listen he knows I distrust him, but you are harder to read, find out his true intent then we will take whatever steps necessary with the outcome presented to us." He sighed. "In the meantime I have to find a credible, believable way to spin this to Margaret, I will tell you what the official story is once I have created it." With that he made his way to find Margaret leaving Ceceila alone in the foyer.

Well that was convenient, Warren believes she wants Sebastian to stay because she distrusts him. It was unlike Warren to miscalculate like this but she was pleased. Make no mistake she would find out his true intent, whether she would share it with Warren that was another question entirely.

A/N Sebby is back! And mouthing off like a smart-ass as usual. What do you think Sebastian's motive to come back is, what is our darling demon after? And what do you think about Elizabeth allowing him back (more on that in the next chapter). Be a dear and give the story a review please. They make me update faster.

Peace.


	6. Chapter 6

::6::

It was early morning the next day and due to their surprise guest the whole household had not gained much sleep. Warren had tossed and turned thinking on the arrival of the butler because he unnerved him, but for the strangest reason. He reminded him of Ceceila. The aura that emanated from this…man was the same one that Ceceila possessed when she lost her temper or became upset, albeit the last time she had truly lost her temper the chess pieces they had been arguing over had not survived. As they fell to their feet in a small heap of ash and dust, the curtains in the room had burned and the glass in the windows of the drawing room had blown out. Warren remembers that as the day he realised his twin was different from him in a way he had only ever associated with fairy tales and folklore

He turned to look at the clock it was 04:21, he wanted desperately to just get up and get on with the mission at hand, but his mind was filled with thoughts of the butler. The way he had spoken so formally yet with an air of complete and utter confidence and familiarity as if he could predict what responses would come from his conversation partner. The way he handled himself with Snake, shaking the deadly animals off as if it was nothing. His eloquent words and voice, it demanded that you listen. He thought this was maybe why he had been his father's butler. That was another thing keeping him up.

Despite the fact that he knew, he knew, his father had been a cruel man he still wanted to know more about him. Anytime he asked his mother she always spoke of stories from when they were young, innocent stories that never really gave anything away. What Warren wanted to know was what he was like as the watchdog, so that he had something to compare himself with. It was his greatest insecurity - he scrutinised his every action, he carefully considered his words before speaking and was hyper aware of his family's infamous reputation. He always thought; 'Is this how he would have handled the situation, is this how he would have done it.' Despite his outward confidence he was forever comparing himself to the large shadow that hung over him and it didn't help that he bore such a striking resemblance to the late Earl. He knew if he dyed his hair and put on an eye patch he could easily pass for him.

The temptation to question the butler about his father was dragging him down like a lead balloon and he needed to focus right now, tomorrow – or today rather - he had to be alert and attentive. Warren needed to manoeuvre Margaret into her position and at the same time co-ordinate Ceceila and keep her mood swings under control.

He had managed (just) to come up with a plan that would use Margaret but keep her safe. Warren was still unhappy he had to involve her at all. Truthfully it would be easier if it was just he and Ceceila, but as it was his mother's words were law and if she said bring her into the fold, he had no other choice.

The plan was as follows; Margaret would accidentally run into Dr. Crippen's current lover and using her friendly and persistent demeanour she would keep the woman engaged long enough for Ceceila to make her way to Crippen's hideout and take care of him by making his death look like a suicide. Once Margaret was done distracting Crippen's lover for a good amount of time, Warren would then follow the woman to the location of the bodies and upon reaching it he would arrest her and take her into Scotland yard and let them deal with the rest. Then all would be well and right in England again.

He really hoped Margaret would be able to succeed. They had only known each other a few short days but he found that she was pleasant company. Her conversation was intelligent and her optimistic outlook proved to be a nice reprieve from the usual moody Ceceila or the lecherous, loud talk of Milward and his cronies.

All this nocturnal thinking was making him hungry so he automatically reached for his cigarettes. He sat on the edge of his very large, forest green, quilted bed and inhaled deeply. Honestly smoking brought him a momentary escape that nothing else could.

Before he knew it he had smoked 3 sticks and it was 05:00. Warren thought it was a good a time as any to get up and start getting ready for the operation, as there was no way he was going back to sleep now. He coughed as he put out the stub of his roll-up and he knew that today was going to be difficult. If anything he knew because he could not shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong today. Warren did not usually worry about missions like this, but there was a clawing disquiet at his subconscious that was eating away at any assurance he might have for today.

::::::

Conventionally, the bride was not meant to sleep with her groom in the same bed before they were married, but given that they had both lost a spouse, they were older and that they both had children. They both saw no harm in sharing a bed before the wedding. The only thing troubling Elizabeth was that she could not sleep; the mark at the back of her neck was burning something fierce. She had tried to ignore it even gone as far as to take some hot tea with valerian root to aid her sleep, but nothing was working. The searing pain was keeping her awake while John slumbered and gently snored next to her. Eventually she couldn't take it anymore and decided that if she was going to be awake she may as well do something. She thought about going to read but figured that words would not take her mind off of the pain, so Elizabeth opted for some night time training. She slipped on her white fencing breaches and white leather boots and tucked her thin lavender nightgown into them before securing a plain cream corset around her torso to keep her bust from moving and causing more pain. Really it was such an inconvenience to have to wear a corset while fencing.

When she was younger she had been rather flat chested and had not had to worry about such things, but after the birth of her children her body changed and her breasts almost tripled in size since. As such it hurt when she did any sort of exercise without them being secured first.

Elizabeth practised her footwork and her form before falling into a familiar set of lunges and parries. She was building up a good sweat and she couldn't feel the pain as acutely as it had been. She continued working for what must have a good hour as she noticed it was starting to get lighter outside. She paused in her training and decided to go to the kitchen for some water. She always hated walking through the manor at night. She could hear the wind whistling through the house and shadows seemed to flicker and move as if alive in the corner of her eye.

After Ciel's death she had hated the lights being out in the house and demanded that at all times the foyer was lit up and each room had a roaring hearth. This had gone every night until a 4-year-old Ceceila almost burned the place down by setting small fires with the lit candles. It was then that Elizabeth decided that new electric fixtures should be installed throughout the house.

She poured her self a glass of water and gulped it down before pouring herself a second and sat down at the large wooden table used for food preparation. She sipped gently on this glass and noticed that the pain in the back of neck was no longer present. She placed her glass down and rolled her shoulders easing her muscles to cool down after her session. She closed her eyes and massaged the back of her neck and shoulders, squeezing hard on the tense muscles at her shoulder blades.

"You always looked so enticing with the sheen of sweat on your porcelain skin."

Elizabeth's eyes flew open and she whipped around knocking her glass to the ground with a smash and reached for her sword only to find it missing. She had left it upstairs.

There stood before her was Sebastian. She had not seen him in 17 years, but he looked no different. He still looked perfect, his eyes still held the dark lust and desire, his face held no trace of a wrinkle and his outfit was the exact same black woollen tailcoats and white gloves he always wore.

Elizabeth was speechless she did not what to say. She could barely even think her mind simply went blank and she stared open-mouthed feeling a torrent of emotion welling up inside her. Anger, however, was the primary feeling.

"Why…." She could not think and she felt her heart beat faster and faster until she could hear the blood pulsing through her veins. He chuckled.

"You ask why, I ask why not my Lady?" he moved languidly so that he was on the opposite side of the table from her. "17 years may seem a long time to you, but to me it feels like an instance, as though I never left. Although, surprisingly, you do seem to be doing well raising your little hellions without my aid-" She cut him off.

"Silence. You, who are a manipulator and a cur, are not allowed to speak to me about my children. I am not the young girl I was and I will not listen your poisonous words, if you think in your hellish mind for one moment that I will let you within a mile of Ceceila, or Warren, you are mistaken."

Elizabeth found herself shaking in anger with her fists balled. She was furious, but given the hour and the nature of the conversation she could not raise her voice. Instead her words came out as a violent whisper and it took everything she had not to let a tears slip down her face. Not tears of sorrow however, no she held no sadness in her heart for him, they were tears of fury.

In response she received his low and amused chuckle, which was - as ever - as dark and as smooth as rich chocolate.

"There was a time when you drank my words in, as if they were the waters of life, when I worshiped your body in the darkness of this house, when I whispered what you desired, what you truly are into your mind. You did not protest then. When your husband was cruel and callous to you, was it not me that sheltered you from him? Was it not me that wrapped you, bathed in silver moonlight, safe in my arms where he could not touch? Was it not me that loved you?" he said while smiling his crows smile.

At some point he had moved to stand directly in front of Elizabeth without her noticing. She had heard his words with clarity. Her mind was her own and would no longer be clouded by his influence.

"You never loved me Sebastian." Elizabeth sneered in his face. "You are incapable of the emotion. You were ordered to seduce me by your master and like a good dog you followed his order. That is all you ever were and will be – a dog."

She looked down as her hard expression faltered "And I stupidly fell for your tricks and lies."

He scoffed "Tricks maybe Elizabeth, but lies? If you remember correctly my former master forbade me from lying, never once did I lie to you. I may have spun the absolute truth and weaved it expertly into half-truths, but lies? Never." He brought his gloved right hand to lift her chin and she instinctively grabbed his wrist.

"Do not even think about kissing me, I will bite off your malicious tongue." The rage is Elizabeth's gaze was as stormy and as vicious as the sea.

"As much as I would delight in ravishing that sharp little mouth of yours Elizabeth, I am afraid I must return to London, you see there is one exceedingly interesting young woman and one wholly bothersome brat that I must attend to. Since they have, as of last night, employed my services as a butler."

Elizabeth's visible rage vanished and was instantly replaced by pure fear.

"What have you done to them?" she said panicked.

"Nothing you need not worry." He started to walk away towards the pantry and he picked up an orange and pocketed it. "And I will do nothing to them, I am their butler after all." he said mockingly.

"I swear Sebastian if you hurt them I-" she was suddenly pushed against the wall and his body pinned hers, he was mirroring what he had done to initiate their first time they had coupled, years ago on that fateful night in Vienna. This time however, he was intimately familiar with her body, her mind, and everything that made Elizabeth herself. Truthfully Sebastian had had a hand in creating her as she was now.

"You will what Elizabeth, kill me? Your threats towards my person mean as little to me as time." He said casually.

Elizabeth was squirming under his grasp trying to wriggle her way free, but this only made him grip tighter and press against her harder. His fangs elongated, his eyes glowed red and his form flickered like the shadows of the house.

He was so close their lips were almost touching.

"Besides, why would I hurt my own child?" Elizabeth stopped moving instantly. Although she had known it, the absolute confirmation that Ceceila was Sebastian's child – a demon's child - caused a myriad of feeling to well up. The crow continued. "There is so much potential within her. Chaos swims around her, it is quite beautiful, alas if only your human eyes could see it." His voice was low and it consumed her, she could hear nothing else.

Elizabeth closed her eyes to blink the tears away and when she opened them suddenly he was just gone, as if he never been there at all. Elizabeth slid down the kitchen wall her breath rapid and her heart beating out her ears. Why now? Why now when everything was starting to come together in her life did he have to come back? She was convinced that he was doing this on purpose; wanting to ruin the peace she had created and delicately balanced on a daily basis. She remained on the floor of the kitchen in her fencing gear for how long she was not sure, but it was here that her future husband found her. Found her sobbing with red-rimmed eyes and her knees curled up to her chest.

John was so unlike Sebastian in the way he approached her, he was tentative, but caring not aggressive and dominant. His eyes spoke only of wanting to help and care for her, he must have – Elizabeth assumed – thought that she was crying over her late husband. As when he embraced her with his large broad-shouldered frame in a tight hug he whispered that he understood and that he would wait for her and support her.

Elizabeth knew she should stand up and declare that her children were in trouble and they needed help, but her whole body was shaking in anger and paralyzing fear and all she could do was cling to John in a hope that she would quiet. She thought she was better, stronger than this, she thought that if he ever appeared again she would be able to shrug him off. Tell him he was not welcome and that he had no right to be near her or her children. She had been naïve, to think he would acquiesce. Sebastian was a demon he did not need to respect her or her wishes, he could do and say as he pleased and that is exactly what he had done. She had been so, so, naïve to think that he would do anything but exactly what he wanted to do, with no regard for her or anyone else. She needed to warn Warren and Ceceila to the very real danger of his manipulative nature, now. She tried so hard to stand up she fought the tears, the shakes, and the wracking sobs, but to no avail. Every moment she had spent with the crow came back flooding and overwhelming her senses. She fell asleep crying in John's arms and he carried her back up to the bedroom, with such gentleness and caring that it hurt.

::::::::

It was around 9 in the morning when Ceceila found her brother sitting in the drawing room rolling fresh cigarettes and he had presumably been there for quite a while if the full ashtray was anything to go by.

"Are you ready for today?" Ceceila said in her flat monotone.

"Of course. I have briefed Margaret she is fully aware of what she needs to do." Warren's tone was stressed and clipped, quite unlike him Ceceila thought.

She moved silently to sit next to her twin something was amiss with him, but she was unsure what. Warren was usually overly talkative when it came to watchdog work, he would be compensating for the nervous energy he always felt. Today was different though; there was tenseness in his shoulders and a frown in his forehead that was definitely new.

"You are staring at me Ceceila." It was said a statement, but was meant as a warning, she could hear it in his voice.

"You seem different is everything well?" she said.

He brought a fresh roll-up to his lips, struck a match and lit the stick with a well practised motion.

"You seem different too, since when have you given two hoots about my well-being. Stop staring at me, stop pretending to care and leave me be. Go and find that infernal butler, I thought I told you to keep an eye on him." He inhaled a long drag of smoke deep into his lungs and sighed. "Just leave me be."

Ceceila felt a sharp pang in her chest, it happened only when Warren aimed sharp words at her, she didn't quite understand the emotion she only knew that she did not like the way it made her feel, but regardless there was a reason she sought Warren out.

"About him, I think we should bring him along with us today." Her monotone providing calm to Warren's perplexed face.

"What! That is a dreadful idea! We cannot trust the man yet you wish to bring him along to watch us carry out secret work for the King. And with Margaret already being with us! I knew you could be stupid sometimes Ceceila, but this takes the biscuit." He angrily scoffed at her before piling his fresh cigarettes into his case.

Ceceila was staring to lose patience with him. He did not need to behave so heatedly towards her when she was making –despite Warren's counter claims– a rather smart idea.

"I do not want him to simply watch us Warren. I want him to help us. In case you have not realised yet he is the aforementioned butler in black who is often cited by our father's old associates." She kept her tone and expression blank.

"Of course I have realised that fact." He ran his right hand through his sandy locks in frustration. "Which is exactly why he should not come along. He will most likely try to employ methods used by our father and as we both know the former Earl of Phantomhive was not above murder and other equally evil things to acquire the outcome he desired." He said visibly anxious.

Ceceila looked her brother dead in the eye and said. "How are father's methods any different from ours Warren? I have tortured and hurt people for information is that not evil?"

"You are different though Ceceila, you do not enjoy the things you do. From what we know father was a sadist who relished the work of the watchdog and often went further than needed, but you realise they are necessary and do them because you have to not because you want to."

"I do them because you will not, because you are weak." She stated plainly.

It was a statement not meant to hurt. Ceceila meant it with no ill intent, she simply said what she saw and that was Warren's unwillingness to hurt others because he was not strong enough to bear the burden of the watchdog. He could threaten and posture, but his words –as frightening as they were – were simply that, words. Not that anyone else knew this publically. The Phantomhive reputation instilled fear in others automatically and Warren always used this to his advantage. Used her to his advantage.

Ceceila looked at her brother and she considered his face and how it so quickly changed. Gone was his somewhat annoyed gaze and aggravated animated facial expressions. His blue eyes had gone colder than ice and his eyebrows were arched in an angry scowl. His thin lips turned down in a sneer and for the first time - she thought - he looked truly angry, perhaps even a little frightening.

Unfortunately, it was at this point that door opened and the black butler swanned in a smirk present on his face.

"My, my you do look so like your father with that scary face." he brought his hand up to his lips in mock thought. "I could fetch a wig and eye patch and you could scare your enemies away as his ghost. I am positive it would work."

"OUT!" Warren roared as he picked up a vase and flung it at the butler. He turned his back to both of them and as he did so Sebastian grabbed Ceceila's wrist and pulled her out of the room with her.

Now usually had someone grabbed her she would root her stance to the ground and the one who grabbed her would fall, but as she tried this she found that the butlers strength trumped hers and she was dragged along by the wrist despite her trying to stop. Well this was new.

"I think we best let your brother calm down yes? It would not serve us to have someone so irate carrying out the duties of the watchdog, although I do agree with your observation, the young master is rather weak. It's a shame really, given who his mother is I fully expected him to have good strength of character, but it would seem he truly is his father's son, petulant, irritable, childish and overly emotional. "

She let the butler drag her through the house, still a little confused at how he could match her strength. Her earlier assumption that he was not human must be correct. He had not been paying attention to where he was taking her until they ended up in the library. Surprisingly Margaret was sat down reading a book and eating her breakfast at the table and her head turned towards them when they entered her eyes warily looking at the gloved hand tight on Ceceila's wrist.

"Everything alright Ceceila?" She turned her attention to Sebastian. "Perhaps you should let go of her wrist Mister Michaelis? It's hardly proper for a servant to hold his mistresses arm in such a manner." She stood and gave Sebastian a stern a glare as she could muster.

"Once again you correct me on matters of household etiquette Miss Sinclair, perhaps I should take lessons from you." And he let go of Ceceila's arm.

"If you need lessons around why you should not grip a lady so, I highly doubt your credentials as a butler." She moved to stand behind the table and Ceceila noticed the very obvious worry in her face. She does not know why, but she felt a small need to ease the worry from the brunette's usually bright face.

"Nothing is wrong Margaret except for my brothers foul mood. You can cheer him up. Go, he is in the drawing room." Ceceila said and she nodded her head in the direction of where Warren was.

"Most likely sulking as a child would." The butler added disdainfully.

Margaret hesitantly picked up her book and cast a concerned look Ceceila's way before she departed the library, leaving Ceceila and the butler alone.

Once she was sure Margaret had left, Ceceila spun around looking him dead in the eye, unwavering. She would have answers.

"What are you?" the intensity of her stare, made the butler smirk and he took both her hands in his.

"I am as you are little one, but I think you already know this." He ran his gloved thumbs over the palms of her hands in a circular motion, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You are not all human does that mean I am not all human either?" she gripped his hands as they lay in hers.

"What do you wish to be? Do you wish to be an inhuman monster-" he smiled wide "-or do you wish to be a young London society girl, who will marry a young London society gentleman and breed perfectly well-mannered, well behaved little society children." He said with sarcasm and contemptuousness.

"I wish I could be normal, not odd looking or strange. I wish I had friends." Ceceila had the strangest feeling that she had had this conversation before and had it in this room with Sebastian; this was impossible of course, as she had only just met him.

"Little one, you wish to be normal, but by nature's own law you are not. You think your brother understands your suffering but he fixes in so well to this city and he is well liked by many. You should not strive to be 'normal', you should embrace your nature. It may seem frightening at first, and it may feel like a pull towards to the abyss. But be rest assured little one, when you finally find it within yourself to accept who you are, the freedom you feel will be euphoric." He brought her hands up and kissed them lightly and as he did so his eyes glowed red.

It was the same red that Ceceila's eyes glowed when she was upset or when she exerted herself physically, and at this, realisation flooded her veins. He truly was like her, she had found another who understood. Things started to slot into place like a puzzle being completed. The way her mother was not horrified when she had first tortured someone, the way she dealt with Ceceila's mood swings and temper, and how the spontaneous combustion of objects at the manner did not surprise her. Her mother had experienced it before with her father when Sebastian had been his butler. One thing eluded her however, if she was not all human why wasn't Warren the same? They were twins after all, they should be the same but they could not be more different.

As if sensing the question the butler quelled her spinning mind to quiet.

"Do not burden your mind over the details little one, be true to yourself and all will become apparent eventually. All that fog clouding the answers you seek will be lifted, you need only give in to the darkness the next time you feel it calling."

Giving in went against everything Ceceila had been taught. She had been taught that every person had a moral compass and that it was of the utmost importance that she keep hers pointing north, especially given the work of the watchdog. Her family operated in a grey area, but at a point there was a line that could not be crossed. The temptation however to give in and cross that line was strong, she had felt the so called pull of the abyss before and it took Ceceila so much strength the last time to stop herself from doing something she could not take back. Could she give in? She was not sure. The butler gently held her by the shoulders and gave her such a strange look, like he could see everything she wanted to know.

"If you are unsure remember that when you do give in to the darkness and you will, that I am here to guide you through that darkness. You will never be lost to it. I will be there with you, always." His voice was low and smooth and he spoke with a sure decisiveness. She should not trust him she knew this. She had known him only a day, but it felt like she had known him her whole lifetime.

It was at this point that she made a conscious decision to give in the next time she felt darkness calling, and then maybe she would see herself for who she really was.

::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me oh my, I had intended to write the showdown chapter in this one but this felt like a good place to end, plus this ended up slightly different than I planned. Next chapter will be the action one, any guessing on how Ceceila will give into darkness? I'd love to hear your guesses. Please bookmark, kudos and REVIEW!
> 
> Peace.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren and Ceceila finally catch up with Crippen.

:::7:::

It was a busy mid-morning in Trafalgar Square as Warren and Margaret sat on a bench just in front of the large fountain, unassumingly keeping an eye out for the dark haired woman that was their quarry. Margaret was visibly nervous, her movements were jittery and she kept looking around with a very anxious face.

Warren clasped his hand over hers in an effort to calm her. If he was being honest, he wasn’t exactly calm himself. The lingering feeling at the back of his mind that something was going to go wrong today still stood and it was eating away at his usual bravado and confidence. He knew that this was the first part of the plan. To succeed Margaret had to be herself.

“You should not worry Margaret you will be fine. The woman does not know who you are and she will simply assume that you are a tourist from the North who wishes to know more about the city.” Warren inhaled deeply from his cigarette. “Just be your usual wonderful self and everything will be fine.” He squeezed her hand and looked at her with a pristine mask of complete composure. 

Margaret turned her body to face his. “I have no idea how you and Ceceila do this Warren, just sitting here waiting- it is so stressful, it wracks my nerves to think what is going to happen.”

Warren laughed. “It is indeed stressful, why do you think I smoke so much.” His smile seemed to put her at ease a little and she turned around.

They were both silent for a while as they kept their eyes peeled for Crippen’s lover. The square was busy with many women. Most were walking together perhaps talking of commonplace and trivial topics and there were mothers pushing their babies in baby carriages, completely oblivious to the horror that lay just under the surface of this city. 

“Thank you.” Margaret’s voice was soft.

“Whatever for?” Warren said puzzled.

“For not treating me like a silly little girl. You have been honest with me Warren. You have told me what you and your family are and I appreciate that honesty, truly, I am glad that I can help you in some way even if it is small.” She cast him a small, but genuine, smile.

“You’re welcome.” Warren said, but the words tasted bitter in his mouth. The work his family did was grim, it was not something that a girl like Margaret should ever be thanking him for, but despite this he smiled in return even if the smile did not reach his eyes.

Suddenly his peripheral vision caught sight of a dark-haired woman walking quickly toward a newspaper seller. She was dressed in a stripped maroon and dark purple dress and her thick dark brown hair was tied neatly in a bun with an elaborate hat on top.

“There, that’s her.” Warren pointed her out discreetly to Margaret and she nodded.

She casually made her way over to the seller and the woman and effortlessly started conversation with her. Warren watched on as he thought the woman would try and brush her off, but after Margaret said something that made her laugh, the two women walked together around the square fitting in perfectly with all the other people there. Warren smiled to himself in triumph, maybe today would go well and that feeling he had was just unnecessary anxiety. Margaret was doing fine, she was indeed stronger than he gave her credit for. He figured that she would distract Crippen’s lover long enough for Ceceila to do… well, what she needed to do.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Across Town

Ceceila waked down the back alleys of the east end keeping a quick pace with her mission in mind and despite her unusual appearance she was not getting any odd looks. She was dressed as a boy, wearing ragged trousers and a worn white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and haphazardly tucked into the front of her breaches. Her long black hair was pulled up and tucked under a flat cap and she wore scruffy brown boots instead of her usual neat black healed ones. She looked entirely androgynous, but the man behind her definitely stood out, Ceceila did not understand why he had not at least tried to change his clothing to better fit in.

“You seem quiet little one are you nervous?” 

Ceceila could hear the smirk in his voice. “No, I just do not want to draw attention to ourselves. ” She paused as she backed against a wall and stealthily peered around its corner. “Which is why I told you to change your clothing.”

Sebastian chuckled “My dear no one will pay any attention to me, they do not even realise I am here, and might I enquire as to why you are spying around that corner like some weasel policeman?”

“The entrance to where Crippen has been staying is here, he is on the top floor and there is only one way in.” Ceceila stated in her dry monotone.

He leaned down to her ear and placed his hand on her shoulder. “There is always more than one way in, you need only think about what is impossible for those unlike us.”

Ceceila turned back from around the corner and stared straight ahead at the wall opposite. She was not entirely sure what he meant, but she figured he was implying there was another way into the building. How? She walked over to the opposite wall, turned and looked up. It was at least nine stories high, but as she inspected the wall closer she noticed small wooden prongs sticking out of the sides, dotted randomly all the way up and as her eyes reached the top she saw a small open window. Crippen was hiding out on the top floor, so, that was her way in.

Ceceila tried to jump to reach the nearest prong but it was too high, she tried again stopping only when the occasional person passed. Sebastian leaned against the wall watching her with ardent fascination on his face, and every time she jumped his smirk grew more amused.

“You are thinking as a human would, a human would jump, trying to grab the prong and pull themselves up, but we are not human are we.” He moved over to stand next to her. “You must feel through your being, reach down into your centre and then use what your find there to propel yourself up onto the prong, do not merely grab it, jump onto it.”

Sebastian followed this explanation by jumping on all the prongs in rapid succession and landing with complete finesse in the roof of the building, after which he straightened his waistcoat and checked his pocket watch.

“You had best be quick little one, I doubt that simpering little brunette can keep your killer’s companion occupied for long.” He shouted down.

Ceceila closed her eyes and took a deep breath she tried to focus on what Sebastian had said about reaching into herself, and she when she did, she found rage. Rage at her mother for not telling her what she was, rage at her brother for never fully understanding her, rage at the Sinclair girl for being too nice for her own good, and rage at herself for not realising sooner that she was more powerful than them all.

She opened her eyes looked at the prong and jumped. She landed elegantly on top of it with perfect balance; she then jumped to the next one with exactly the same grace. She did exactly what Sebastian had done only instead of landing on the roof she neatly propelled herself feet first through the open window and landed on the floor in a crouch. In an absent minded thought she reminded herself of a cat. She stood up and looked around the room it was empty and she heard no noises coming from the rest of the flat. She quietly manoeuvred her way around the rooms (of which there were 3) and found them all empty. This was wrong. Crippen’s schedule had been like clockwork for the last few weeks he was always here at this time, why would he not be here? Frantically Ceceila searched the place several more times looking for some sort of clue as to where he would be. Upon arriving back into the room she first entered, she found Sebastian standing there.

“Something amiss little one?” Sebastian said coolly.

“He is not here.” Even to Ceceila her voice sounded panicked and her usual blank expression was nowhere to be seen.

“Oh dear, where ever could he be, I do hope he has not made his way to his death room of grizzly corpses, that would be unfortunate. The poor young master would most likely get caught in the cross fire if that was indeed the case.” Sebastian said with a frown that held no real concern.  
Horror pinned Ceceila to the spot when she realised that Warren was walking straight into the clutches of Crippen and she was not going to be there to protect him. She looked to Sebastian with a helplessness she had never felt before. 

“What do I do?” she was troubled. Ceceila was not the brains, when it came to the watch dog work she merely followed her Mother and Warren’s orders and because of the argument this morning Warren had not provided her with a back up plan should things go wrong.

“Do not concern yourself with your brother little one, I do believe he is capable of taking down Dr. Crippen and his companion on his own. He will be fine.”

“No! He will not be fine! Warren had never killed anyone before, he is not strong and he is a terrible fighter, we need to find him now.” With this she jumped out of the window and down onto the street heading straight for Trafalgar square. With any luck Margaret was still distracting Crippen’s lover and she would be able to stop Warren from following her.

Sebastian sighed; his little raven’s love for her sibling was getting in the way of progress. Oh well hopefully after today’s events unfolded in their entirety, that unbreakable bond between twins would start to crack. His form shifted and smoked as he vanished from the room to his child’s side and he watched in displeasure as she ran, the strong feelings she had for her brother radiating around her chaos.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

He was on his 9th cigarette. His excuse: this was a tense situation. Warren’s eyes were tightly trained on the dark haired woman and Margaret, well, so far so good. Margaret had kept the woman busy for a good 30 minutes she just needed to keep it up a little longer and then he would follow her. Wait. Why was she leaving, no, keep talking to her! Warren saw the dark haired woman stand and make her way across the square heading towards the river, Margaret rushed over.

“I tried ahm sorry I couldnae keep her-“ Warren cut off Margaret’s thick Scottish ramblings and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“You did well, I do not doubt Ceceila will have completed her mission by now. Go back to the townhouse and wait for me there I will follow this woman to the riverside location. Go.” He let go of her and walked quickly in the direction the woman went.

He soon caught her up, her hat was easy to spot in a crowd. Warren followed her through the main streets, but he had to back up several times when she started to make twists and turns down alleyways, it was becoming harder to not be noticed with the lack of people here and the fact that it was broad daylight. Usually he and Ceceila worked in darkness and as such it was easy to be stealthy, but here in the harsh light of day stealth was not something he could use so easily.

The woman made a right turn and Warren almost turned the same corner she did before stopping and peering around it. It led out into an open courtyard with several large shipping warehouses. He watched as she slid open the side door of warehouse 4. So it was that one. They had intel that Crippen was keeping his trophies down at the riverside docks but they were not sure which warehouse had been used as storage, now however he had her in his grasp. His plan had worked perfectly.

He sidled along keeping tight to the wall and stopped just shy of the side door. Warren took out his revolver and checked it was loaded, he knew he would not have to use it. He was certain that when confronted with a gun to her person she would give up. He quietly opened the side door and moved to the inside. She was talking to someone; Warren’s heart sped up. No one else was meant to be here, he crouched down behind some crates to see if he could listen further. He heard 2 pairs of footsteps coming towards the main area and an unmistakable American accent.

“We need to move all this and fast, word is that Scotland Yard knows we’re here and are coming soon.” Dr Crippen’s American drawl was low and displeased.

“That’s impossible, how would the bloody pigs know where we are, they don’t know nuffin’.” The woman had a nasal East London accent and she sounded equally aggravated. 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head sweetheart, I have my sources. Of which I would be dead without. And it’s not the pigs we have to really worry about, no; it’s the so-called ‘watchdog of the King.’ He had planned to put a bullet in me today, but luckily I was tipped off this morning so all’s well and good. But we really need to get moving. C’mon.”

So that’s why he was not dead, someone had betrayed them. The only people who had known of Crippen’s location had been Ceceila, his mother and himself. The information was kept in files under lock and key and Warren was willing to bet money that the unscrupulous butler had no problem stealing that information and turning traitor. And now Ceceila was with said butler. Oh he hoped she figured his game out quickly and gave him a piece of her mind.

Crippen started to move towards were Warren was hiding and he realised he needed to move, but as he did his foot caught on a rope and he knocked over a crate creating a loud crash.

“What the hell?!” Crippen said as he pulled out his gun.

Warren had no choice now, escape was no longer an option. He moved around from the crates his face hard and tone deadly serious. He pointed the gun at Crippen.

“By the orders of his majesty King Edward VII, I, Warren Phantomhive the watchdog of-“

Bang.

“Ah!!!!” Warren fell to the ground in pain, clutching the calf in his right leg his gun lying forgotten to his left hand side. He groaned as he rolled to his left reaching for his gun but it was kicked away before he could reach it.

Crippen laughed. “Word of advice kiddo, if your going to shoot someone just shut your god damn mouth and shoot them.” He tuned his head. “Lysa! Fetch a chair, some rope, and my surgical kit. I think I will have some fun with…Warren was it? Warren Phantomhive?” he grabbed Warren by the chin and punched him in the head proceeding to knock him out cold.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

The townhouse door burst open at inhuman speed and Ceceila immediately sought out Miss Sinclair, Sebastian was only a few paces behind her.

“Ceceila, what is wrong?” she was grabbed by Ceceila in a vice grip “Ow, be careful your hurting me!”

“Where is Warren! Where is he!” she was frantic her usually well-guarded expression was wild and untempered.

“He followed after the woman, Ceceila let go of me.” Margaret tried to free herself from the young Phantomhive’s grip to no avail.

Ceceila let go of the girl, she had lost her hat at some point and her long black hair was a mess as she pushed her hand through her hair in an attempt to keep it out of her face.

“Is Warren in trouble?” Margaret asked Ceceila anxiously. It was not however Ceceila that answered.

“Most likely he is in dire trouble and I fear what should befall the young master if we do not find him soon. The good doctor was not at home when my young mistress went to ‘take care’ of him so I can only presume he is where our young master is.” Sebastian’s lips quirked up into his signature smirk.

“And you find this funny do you?” Margaret snapped at Sebastian before turning to a frantic Ceceila and taking her hands gently in her own. “Listen to me, Warren headed in the direction of the riverside warehouses east of Trafalgar Square, which means he is most likely in one of those buildings. It would make sense for Dr Crippen to keep his…souvenirs in a place like that, so all we have to do is find him before Crippen does. Alright?”

Ceceila’s obsidian eyes were filled with unshed tears and Margaret could feel the black haired girls hands shaking in her own. She was blaming herself for this.

Margaret continued. “Warren is smart, if he cannot fight his way out I am sure he will be able to talk his way out. Now come, let us go.” Margaret led Ceceila out of the townhouse by the hand never letting go for fear that she would run away.

Sebastian scoffed at the little whelp’s optimism, that boy would never be the same after today. He went to follow after them but was stopped.

“You will stay here Mr. Michaelis, your snide remarks and comments are unhelpful and not what she needs at this moment, so…you will stay here.” The brown haired Scot stared directly at him her gaze full of fear yet unwavering. She was indeed brave.

“Very well Miss Sinclair, enjoy your excursion.” He waved her goodbye as she quickly left to help find the blue-eyed brat.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Warren came to with a thumping pain in his head and a sharp pain in his leg accompanied by liquid warmth, oh yes now he remembered, he had been shot. He tried to reach for his head but realised his arms were tied behind his back and his legs secured to the chair he was sitting on.

“Well, well, well look who finally decided to wake up” Dr. Crippen had a demented smile on his face that was full of malevolent glee. “I was worried I had hit you too hard on your coconut, lucky me right?”

“You are making a huge mistake, you clearly do not know who I am or you would not be taking such liberties with my well being.” He poured as much venom as he could into his words.

“Of course I know who you are, you introduced yourself, you’re Warren Phantomhive the watchdog of the King and if I am not mistaken you were the one who was going to kill me today. Shame your plan did not quite work out” he said sarcastically.

“How did you know I was after you?” Warren said. According to his profile Crippen was a narcissist so of course he would like the sound of his own voice, if he could keep him talking for long enough, hopefully, Ceceila would realise something was wrong or Scotland Yard would show up. Right now he would take either.

“One of my many sources told me this morning. Told me you planned to come to Lysa’s flat where I had been staying and kill me straight out.” He lifted a leather doctor’s case and placed it on the table beside him. “I must thank him if I see him again. He did me quite the favour.”

Warren’s eyes darted to the case, whatever was in there it was not good news for him. Keep him talking, he just needed to keep him talking.

“Scotland Yard are on their way, it will not be long before they arrive, so it would be sensible if you just let me go, that way you could escape before they arrive. No one has to get hurt.” He said. He added a half hearted smile for good measure, perhaps he could charm him. 

“Funny you should say that ‘Warren Phantomhive’, because not 10 minutes ago you tried to shoot me, so I would say someone does need to get hurt, and it ain’t gonna be me.” His American accent became more pronounced as he delicately removed various surgical tools from his case and set them down next to his bag with great care.

“You do not have to hurt me, we can settle this like gentlemen. You are an educated man, a doctor, so you are obviously intelligent. How about we come to an agreement, you let me go and I will facilitate your escape back to the United States.” Warren kept looking at the instruments as the Doctor carefully laid them out one by one. Crippen did not respond, but instead started humming a tune to himself and that's when Warren really started to panic.

This man was insane he had killed over 17 people that they knew about, only when hell froze over would he listen to reason. Frantically he tried to think of a way out, goading him would not work, neither it appeared would charming him and he did not have his gun, but, he did have his knife. It was tucked up his sleeve. He tried as hard as he could to free one of his hands to grab it but the ropes were too tight. He kept trying and trying as he saw Dr. Crippen lift a peculiar metal instrument with scissor like handles and several hooked prongs at the end from his case. As he moved closer Warren started to squirm to get as far away from this lunatic as possible, if only he could reach his knife, his wrists were bleeding with the friction from the ropes, but right now bleeding wrist were the least of his problems.

“I made this instrument myself, what do you think? Beautiful is it not? It makes extraction cleaner and easier, there’s less chance of the subject dying from blood loss.” He smiled and polished the chilling looking apparatus with a handkerchief.

Dr. Crippen moved the instrument so that it was cool against Warren’s skin and Warren turned his head away and closed his eyes tight shut.

“Tut tut Warren Phantomhive, you have to keep your eyes open, Lysa, help our subject keep his eyes open. You need to see.”

Lysa moved to stand behind Warren and she held his eyes open forcing him to look at the unhinged man in front of him.

“Please, no, you do not have to do this, please, please just let me go, I will give you anything you want. Please!!” he felt tears run down his cheeks, as he knew what was about to happen to him.

Crippen laughed “But I have exactly what I want right here.”

There was a metal click and suddenly the screams of the young watchdog echoed through the large warehouse, followed only by the sound of insane laughter.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea, cliffhanger, you can blame NaNoWriMo for my frequent updates, I hate losing. Please bookmark, kudos and review. Peace.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warren is found and Elizabeth has some alone time with our favourite butler.

:::8:::

Margaret had been given a small flick knife from Ceceila and she kept it gripped tightly in her right hand. The carriage ride had been a tense one with Ceceila's eyes darting to the window constantly, and on more than one occasion she had gone to wipe her eyes to prevent tears from falling. The raven-haired girl had hardly spoken, but Margaret could tell that she had been feeling guilty, because she had left things on such bad terms with Warren after their disagreement this morning. If something had happened to him, Margaret feared that the younger twin would never forgive herself.

Upon arrival they had split up to search the water front area and the numerous warehouses and abandoned buildings near the docks. Ceceila had stated without room for argument that they would search separately, and as much as Margaret wanted to help Ceceila, she figured that she would only hinder her efforts rather than help them.

Margaret had just finished searching the second warehouse and was moving onto the third. She walked quickly from one to the other trying to seem inconspicuous, but she really had no idea how to do that apart from keeping an eye out to make sure someone did not spot her. She did stick out like a sore thumb, what with her well kept appearance, obviously expensive green and maroon dress and well fitting black gloves, she probably should have changed her clothing as Ceceila had. If someone did spot her it would be evident she did not belong here.

She tried the side door of the third warehouse only to find it was locked, she then tried the large sliding front doors – also locked. She sighed in frustration, if only she could pick locks or was strong enough to force the door open. Warren might be in there and there was a possibility the Doctor might have locked the place up. She went back to the metal side door and tried to ram her side against it in an effort to open it.

"Ow!" she let out an audible cry she gripped her left side and doubled over. That really hurt, she paced around in a circle for a few moments trying to walk off the thumping pain that now resided in her arm, in hindsight that was a bit stupid. All right she was clearly not getting in.

She moved around to the next warehouse - number four – again as inconspicuously as she could, but immediately she stopped, backed herself against the warehouse wall, and awkwardly sidled into a shadow as she saw two figures emerge swiftly from the large front doors.

She saw a tallish well dressed man in a brown suit with a moustache and a brown bowler hat pushing a cart with a large white dust sheet over the top and he was followed by Lysa, the woman she had been talking to earlier, she was also pushing an identical cart. It was Dr. Crippen!

They both pushed the large carts down to a boat on the river that had a loading ramp ready for them and they started quickly unloading the carts onto the boat. Margaret did not know what to do, they were right there, which meant Warren was most likely in the warehouse they had just left. She considered confronting them, but stopped before she took a step. This man was a killer and what was she? A young girl trying to help a friend in an awful situation was what she was.

Horror set in as she realised they would escape and she had to let them, but if they were leaving now then where was Warren? A cruel thought that he was under those dust sheets passed through her mind and she dismissed it as quickly as it came. She saw that the side door had been left open, so Margaret waited until the two had started the boat up and were far enough down the river that they were no longer looking and even if they did they would not see her. She then hastily ran to the side door and opened it; at first she thought the room was empty, as she heard nothing but the heels of her boots clicking off the damp stone floor. Then as she went further inside she heard muffled groans. She followed the sound and as she rounded some large wooden crates she felt her heart stop.

Warren was bound and gagged, tied to a chair and deep crimson blood covered his pinstripe navy blue suit and white shirt.

"Warren!" she shouted as she sprinted over to him removing his gag.

"Help me… please… help me…" his continued mumbling was incoherent and Margaret had to try very hard not to vomit at the sight of his face.

His right eye had been completely removed and all that was left was a dark empty socket, a severely damaged and swollen eyelid, and blood slowly but steadily trickling down his face onto his clothing. As she looked down she noticed that his right trouser leg was also soaked red and dripping blood onto the floor. She simply stood in shock and stared unable to move before catching herself and realising that he needed a hospital, now.

"Warren, it's me, Margaret, I am going to untie you and get you to a hospital, but you are going to have to walk to the main road so we can get a carriage." She received no response from him. "I will help you as best I can. You will be alright, I promise." She said, her voice and hands shaking.

She tried to untie the ropes binding him but they were too tight and her trembling hands kept fumbling. Then remembering she had it, she pulled out the flick knife she had been given - suddenly incredibly grateful for it - and sawed at the rope bindings with the serrated edge as fast and as hard as she could until they gave way. Warren almost fell off the chair, but she quickly grabbed him around his waist. It took all of her of strength to pull him up; despite his small stature he was still heavy. Margaret managed to swing his right arm around her shoulder with great difficulty, to lift his lagging weight to hers.

"We are going to start moving alright? But you need to try and help me. I know it must be painful Warren, but please we need to get you to a doctor." Again she received no response but she felt him shift some of his weight to his left leg easing the weight on her back and shoulders.

As they reached the outside of the Warehouse she saw the daylight was beginning to fade, what time was it? She thought about searching for Ceceila, but decided Warren's well-being took priority and as if her thought of the other Phantomhive twin could summon her, there she was, suddenly in front of them as if she had appeared from air. Her black hair was dripping wet and her street urchin's clothes were also soaked and covered in blood splatter that was clearly not hers, her breathing was heavy and laboured, and her face was unreadable. Ceceila's eyes however were not as they should be, they were glowing neon red and as she moved towards them Margaret automatically stepped back in fear.

"Ceceila?...What happened?" she said nervously.

Instead of receiving a reply, Ceceila moved to take Warren from her and gently draped him over her shoulder as if he was feather light. She blinked and her eyes receded to their normal obsidian colour then she looked the young Scot dead in the eye with no emotion present on her face.

"Thank you for your help. Sincerely." She said. Her voice, which had earlier been so frantic, had returned to its usual flat monotone.

"Ceceila, he needs a hospital immediately. The Royal London is near here." she said and pointed in its general direction. She then paused and considered her next words, for the eyes she possessed but a moment ago were not of the human realm. "And whatever kind of Spirit or Sidhe you are; please, use your netherworld magic to help save him."

Margaret saw Ceceila's blank mask slip for a second as she blinked rapidly and frowned in confusion. Then looking down she nodded and faster than lightning she ran towards the hospital.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The carriage could not pull up fast enough to the Phantomhive townhouse. As soon as Sebastian had told Elizabeth he had reinstated himself as head butler she could think of nothing but her children. After sleeping off her initial shock and fear, she had ordered a carriage straight to London. Before the carriage had fully stopped, she darted out with her light baby blue dress flowing behind her like water and her greying golden hair carelessly tied up. Elizabeth's expression was hard and determined and her eyes were tired yet focused, she would make sure no harm would befall her children due to Sebastian's meddling's.

It was dark, night had fallen and the lamps flickered outside the front door of the townhouse as Snake opened it to greet her. As Elizabeth approached a dark figure encroached behind the thin footman. Sebastian. Elizabeth immediately slipped into the voice and demeanour she used when she was conducting dealings as the watchdog

"Snake take my bags from the carriage to my room now." Snake bowed and slithered away to fulfil his lady's order. "And you-" She stared daggers at the black butler. "-I will see you in my study."

"Yes, my Lady." Sebastian smirked and bowed low placing his gloved hand on his chest.

The Countess of Phantomhive whipped past him, her well-tailored cream ankle boots clicking confidently along the black and white checked marble floor and up the wooden stairs. Her strides were fast, but Sebastian was never more or less than two steps behind her, Elizabeth marched into her study and turned to face him as he elegantly shut the door behind them.

"You will answer any and all questions put to you and you will do so truthfully." Her green eyes were filled with fury.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Sebastian smiled and he took a few paces closer to her, but Elizabeth stood her ground firmly. This time she would not be shaken so easily, this conversation would be on her terms.

"No, you have never outright lied to me crow, but you have a unholy talent for manipulating the truth and twisting it into something unrecognisable. This night though you will speak plainly to me, I desire none of your eloquence or clever duplicity. I simply wish for answers that are straight and true." She took a small step towards him which made them less than a foot apart now.

His smirk softened to an amused smile "Very well, the truth you shall have, but be careful Elizabeth, sometimes the simple, plain, truth is overwhelmingly crueller than a deceptive half truth."

"Where are my children?" she said.

"If I had to guess they are somewhere in central London near the river. Their exact location, I do not know." He said.

"Why are they there?"

"Why? They are carrying out your work of course, your order for your children to 'deal with' Dr. Crippen still stands does it not?"

She looked away, if only for a second before returning her gaze to his.

"Margaret is with them?"

"Yes she is."

"They should have returned by now, their plan was time sensitive. Why have they not retuned home? Sebastian?" Elizabeth felt her heart rate increase in alarm.

"Most likely, and this is mere speculation, because my little raven and that simpering silly little girl are trying their hardest to save your son's life. The little one did seem inconveniently agitated when she figured out the brat was walking straight into the Doctor's hands. I would have accompanied them to provide aid, however I was asked to stay here as it was thought by the young Miss Sinclair that my comments and remarks would not help the situation. So, as such, I remained here lying in wait for their return." he smiled and tilted his head as he finished speaking.

"If you know they are in trouble then why have you not gone to help them?!" Elizabeth shouted angrily as she grabbed her swords from the cabinet next to her desk and shouted down the stairs for Snake to ready a carriage again.

"I have not helped them, Elizabeth, because I do not wish to help Warren or the Sinclair girl. That arrogant brat is an unwelcome reminder of my former master and a wretched 8-year long hunger that I wish never to repeat and the Sinclair girl, well, she simply vexes me with her pure-hearted goodness. But rest assured my Lady that our child-" He grabbed Elizabeth's wrist and pushed his power through her using the mark "-is very capable of taking care of herself and others in anyway she deems fit. Even if she does not fully know it just yet."

Elizabeth stumbled and dropped her swords as Sebastian held her wrist and pushed that incredibly familiar feeling through her body. She knew what he was doing; he was stalling her so that she would not be able to reach her children before something dreadful befell them. As she righted herself and went to wrench herself away she caught sight of her face in the darkened window and halted. She looked different, not exceedingly different, just a little. Her face was thinner, her eyes were brighter, the dark shadows beneath them had vanished, and her skin was lighter and porcelain smooth with not a wrinkle in sight. She looked down at her body and noticed it too had changed, her breasts were smaller, her hips were narrower and she felt stronger as if she possessed more energy. She looked younger.

"What did you…" her voice sounded lighter, higher pitched.

"You asked for my plain and simple truth, well this is the truth I see when I look at you. You are beautiful Elizabeth and you will forever be beautiful. Your beauty will remain captured; as it was the night I marked you. Your outward human beauty may fade and your mind succumb to time, but to me this is what I see when I look at you and what I will always see – your soul. You began a white rose in another's garden, but when I plucked you and stole you away, your petals were dyed an inky black. That is what you are to me, you are my black rose, a sad porcelain doll brought to life by my deviltry." He had moved closer to hold her and had snaked his hand around her waist to sit at the small of her back.

She needed to move her feet to go, her children needed her, but his words were like poisoned honey and upon looking at her younger self in the window's reflection, she was reminded of a time when he had lavished his own fiendish brand of affection upon her. Said fiends lips were now slowly moving closer to hers.

"Don't." she had meant to say it bitterly, but it came out as a light breathy whisper and he bent her back so he was leaning over her smaller frame.

"Then step away my Lady." His hushed voice whispered.

Elizabeth saw his eyes glow and his demonic form shift around them, encasing them and the room in shadow. The only gleam of light came from her dress and her hair, as the moon coursed through the window and flitted around Sebastian's moving shades bouncing off the light fabric and golden tresses. With his right gloved hand he held her left wrist tight to his side and his left hand was leaning her back further and further until she could only push herself back up towards him. There was hesitation as Elizabeth tried to fight the power she could feel coursing from him to her through the mark on the back of her neck. Images of the past long gone flashed through her mind and eventually she gave in, closed her eyes and leaned into him as their lips met.

His kiss was just as she remembered, all fire and passion yet methodical in its execution, every flick and lick of his tongue was deliberate, every bite of her lip done with firm intent. He was utterly unyielding to her attempts to control the kiss. So she breathed the demon in remembering everything that she loved about him, remembering why she fell for him. What Elizabeth would have noticed if she had caught sight of herself in the window as she kissed the demon butler, was that as his power flowed through her, her eyes were no longer their striking green colour. Instead they glowed a bright red, but as it was her eyes were shut, relishing in a moment that deep down she had secretly coveted for for years.

She felt him smirk against her lips and he pulled her closer so that their bodies were flush against one another, and then he slowly removed his lips from hers. Elizabeth leant back up as if to recapture them but found a single gloved finger on her lips.

His eyes were lusted over and still glowing as he smiled and brushed a stray hair from her face and leant down to her ear.

"They are at The Royal London Hospital." He said smiling.

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open and she immediately sobered up and yanked herself away before planting a solid, loud and resounding slap straight across his face. His lip bled slightly and he flicked his tongue out to lick the blood away with a mischievous grin. She picked up her fallen swords from the carpet and went to leave.

"This conversation is not over." She said with steel in her voice.

Sebastian chuckled "Of course my Lady, I would not have it any other way."

Elizabeth did not look at him as she left the room and headed straight for the carriage. She was loathed to admit to herself that she had wanted that for a very long time. She was loathed to admit that she had missed him. It hurt and angered her to think he still had such a hold over her feelings even after all this time.

She quickly climbed into the carriage and rubbed her hands over her face, she was the Countess of Phantomhive and she needed to appear composed. She removed her cream gloves from her dress pocket and slipped them on. Then she pulled out her small pocket mirror to make sure her lip rouge had not smudged and she looked somewhat presentable. As she did she could not help but take in her appearance. She looked so old. The fair and light beauty she had possessed as a young lady had indeed faded and she could not help but think how beautiful she had looked when Sebastian had held her. She felt a small pang of guilt in her chest for John, the man who cared so much for her and was gentle and sweet. She should be discarding any feelings she had for Sebastian for John, but it was tremendously difficult.

Elizabeth willed all current thoughts of the crow out of her mind as the carriage started to move, she had given direction to the hospital and she was determined to make sure that if anything had happened to her children the one responsible would suffer a pain unlike anything they could even fathom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review!! I want to know what you all think of the characters etc.


	9. Chapter 9

The smell of disinfectant was strong and the sound of metal wheels and harsh voices floated through Warren’s consciousness. His mind was hazy and he could barely think, he then tried to open his eyes only to find there was something blocking the sight from his right eye. He took a deep breath and he thought he heard someone call his name.

 “…ren, Warren can you hear me?” he recognised the voice as his mother’s. He turned his head toward the voice and he caught sight of his mother sat at his left hand side and he thought she did not look like herself. Usually she was so immaculately dressed, so elegant, right now however her hair a mess, her skirts wrinkled and crushed, and her kind expression had turned to one of deep worry.

 “What happened?” he groaned and he noticed his voice was hoarse.

 “Master Phantomhive, do you know where you are? Do you remember what happened to you?” asked an unfamiliar male voice.

 His mind was so fuzzy, so to gain clarity he tried to push himself to sit up. “I cannot-“

 Images suddenly flashed through Warren’s mind and he remembered Crippen, the warehouse, and being shot in the leg. Then his mind opened like a floodgate and further memories came torrenting though. He remembered a metal claw prying at his skull and immense pain.

 His hand instantly went to his right eye in panic and that’s when he realised why he couldn’t see. It was a bandage. The unfamiliar voice belonged to a doctor and he was in a hospital.

 “My eye! He took my eye! He took my eye! He took my bloody eye!” he shouted franticly in his rasping voice and scratched at the cotton around his head. “Get these off me now! I demand it! I need to see it!”

 The doctor moved quickly to hold Warren’s arms down to stop him scratching at his bindings.

 “Master Phantomhive.” The doctor’s firm tone silenced Warren. “Please be still, unneeded stress will only hinder your healing and those bandages are not going to be removed until the wound is healed, no matter how many demands you make. This is my ward and healing most certainly takes precedence over vanity.”

 The doctor let go of Warren and mixed some white powder in a glass of water and he turned to Elizabeth “Once you have finished talking to your son Countess Phantomhive, make sure he takes this.”

 “Yes of course, thank you doctor.” Elizabeth nodded solemnly at the doctor as he left.

 “Mother, he took my eye, he took my….” He trailed off and stared down in sombre disbelief at the white bed sheets.

 “But you are alive Warren, that is the most important thing, when I heard you were at the hospital I…I feared the worst. You may have lost your eye and been injured but you. Are. Alive.” She gripped his hand tightly. “I do not know what I would have done if that unhinged lunatic had killed you.”

 Warren heard his mother’s words and somewhere deep at the back of his mind they made sense, but in the current moment he was unsure how to react. He thought this is what Ceceila must do when she shuts down her emotions, she feels nothing and simply becomes numb to the pain. It worked quite well he thought. He simply stared vacantly at the bed and was oblivious to the tears streaming from his remaining eye. His mother was still saying something to him, but he wasn’t paying attention.

 “Can you leave?” he said flatly.

 Elizabeth blinked a little taken aback “Darling, I really think it best if someone is here with you. To be alone with only your thoughts right now is not what you need.”

 With a sudden surge of surprising anger Warren lifted his head turned it to his mother.

 “You _will_ leave, it’s not a request.” He snarled, his voice and his new one-eyed glare were as hard and cold as ice and he left no room for negotiation.

 Elizabeth took a few seconds to answer starting at her son’s tear stained angry face before removing her hand from her son’s, standing up and smoothing down her rumpled skirts. “Of course you still must be tired. I will be at the townhouse if you need me and Ceceila will visit later in tomorrow afternoon.” She said trying to smile.

 Warren continued staring at her as she turned to leave, his eye never leaving her face, and as the door shut he scoffed dispiritedly to himself. He had seen many expressions cross his mothers face, happiness, sadness, ferocity, determination, but never once had he seen fear. When he had looked at his mother her expression changed from concern to instinctual fear almost instantaneously, fear of him. It had been brief, but it had most definitely been there.

 He put a hand to his head and sighed. Normally round about now he would start smoking. He figured however that that nit-picking doctor would have taken his tobacco away and as much as he disliked opioids, right now they were all that was available.

 He grabbed the glass of water with the white powder next to him and downed it as fast as he could, god morphine was vile, and he would kill for a cigarette. He touched his bandaged eye tentatively again before lying down and quickly felt the pull of a deep sleep take him under.  

 

:::::::::::

 

The fire crackled and hummed in the Phantomhive townhouse and sat next to its bright warmth was Elizabeth. She had been drinking and was on her fourth glass of whiskey, but despite the whiskey and the warmth from the fire she still felt a chill up her spine anytime she thought back to this morning.

 She was punishing herself because just for a second she allowed herself to feel fearful of her son. The icy, piercing stare from Warren’s bright blue eye had resembled his fathers so much, she hadn’t seen Warren she had seen Ciel. It completely caught her off guard and the fear of the late Earl she had long thought gone hit her like a fist to the gullet. 

 Elizabeth sighed and placed her glass down, her eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy from her tearful moments and she hadn’t changed from her lilac day dress. This was one situation where she was glad John wasn’t here, she needed to process what had happened and how Warren would cope with what happened to him. Had John been around it would leave him with far too many questions that she simply did not want to answer.

 It was not lost on her that the injuries inflicted would now make it so that an eye patch and cane were necessary, two specific items that Ciel had always used when serving as Earl. It had occurred to Elizabeth that Crippen most probably knew who Warren was and therefore knew who Ciel had been, which meant that this was - in all likelihood - a very deliberate maiming.

She heard the door open and immediately felt the back of her neck tingle slightly and she automatically reached a hand for her mark.

 “What do you want Sebastian?” she said with resignation knowing that he wasn’t going anywhere.

 Sebastian knelt down in front of Elizabeth and took both her hands in his

 “What ails your mind my sweet doll?” His eyes bore into hers and that familiar tug was back and be it the alcohol, the stress, or a mixture of everything, in that moment she knew she wasn’t fighting him tonight.

 “He looked like him. Warren had the same look in his eyes that _he_ used to have. It was so cold and angry, Sebastian what if…what if he becomes like Ciel? What if he turns cruel and cold and vengeful?”

 Sebastian pulled her from the chair to the floor so that they were both kneeling in front of the fire and he cradled her face with his gloved hands.

 “Elizabeth your son merely lost a single eye, he did not loose his entire family nor was he kept underground in a cage and tortured daily for a month, his torture only lasted a few hours. I doubt what was done to him is enough to inspire vengeance worthy of a demon, but if it does come to that I could always help him.”

 She knew she should not ask, but she was allowing Sebastian’s words to wash over her. “How?”

 “Memories can be fickle things, easily changed, easily placed, and easily taken. If you wish it…” he started to kiss along her neck and shoulder. “I could tamper with is mind make it so that when he recalls this _event_ he feels nothing.”

 It sounded to good to be true and she pulled at his hair so that he was facing her again. His eyes were glowing and his fangs were exposed. Elizabeth slipped his jacket off his shoulders and slowly started to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt. The crow smiled.

 “Why would you help Warren? You have made it very clear you dislike him.”

 He chuckled “Elizabeth my dear I would not be helping your _precious_ son, I would be helping my precious daughter.” He started deftly untying the laces and buttons of Elizabeth’s dress “Her guilt at being unable to save her sibling from harm is manifesting in a way which is hindering her advancement and we have come so far already, I really would hate to have to stop now.”

 She laughed downheartedly and she felt herself start to dissociate. Whatever he was doing to Ceceila, whatever plans he had for Warren and her - it could wait until tomorrow.  “Of course, everything you do is self-motivated you vile crow.”

 “Your words lack the passionate hatred they formerly possessed my Lady.” Sebastian said smirking as Elizabeth moved her hands from her grip on his hair to rest on his shoulders.

 "Be under no illusions Sebastian I still hate you, I always will." Elizabeth whispered while her eyes wandered down with her hands.

 She guided his shirt and waistcoat to the floor and she ran her hands over his bare chest. Nothing at all had changed about him, not one single thing. Every dip and rise in his skin was just as she remembered; every strand of hair was the same. She soon felt Sebastian making quick work of her corset laces, leaving her in her undergarments and she felt a familiar heat pooling below as she pulled him closer.

 Sebastian opened his mouth to respond further to her lacklustre insult, but was silenced by Elizabeth's fingers being placed over his lips. She then moved towards him, removing her soft fingers and replacing them with her lips.

 Unlike the past kisses between them, this kiss was slow and gentle, unhurried and careless as both lips parted and the crow’s clever tongue moved to find hers. Sebastian’s hands gripped at her waist and pulled her closer until their bodies were flush against one another. Their lips slowly moved against each other’s, and one could be mistaken for thinking the two were very much in love.

 They slowly parted their kiss and Elizabeth looked at the black clad demon she claimed to despise, the hell-born creature that had simultaneously saved and complicated her life and her heart skipped a beat.

 In the past she thought she had loved him and over the years she had convinced herself that this was not true. That it was the simple fact that he was there, tempting her with his demonic powers and that he had taken advantage of her at a time when she was vulnerable. The truth was, however, that she could have told him to stop anytime she wanted to and she didn’t. Sometimes she had started but she never truly meant it and perhaps that was why their affair had never stopped. Deep _deep_ down in her heart the ugly, horrid truth was stuck there like a rotted splinter - Elizabeth loved him and she hated herself for it.  

 “Contemplating the world my Lady? A furrowed brow does not suit your porcelain skin.” He said smoothly as he stroked down the side of her face.

 His gloves were now gone and she noticed that he longer had the Faustian mark on his hand; it was the only thing about him that had changed. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his waist feeling his cool skin beneath her hands.

 “You say you can make Warren forget, but right now all I want is for you to make me forget – for a small time at least. Will you make me forget like you used to? Will you, just for tonight, make me feel what I felt the night you marked me?”

 Sebastian’s eyes glowed with sadistic satisfaction and as if the butler had been waiting for those words his form shifted to flickering shadow and darkness and he swooped her up in his arms and carried her upon dark raven feathers to a black bed. Sebastian gripped the back of her neck touching the mark with his fingers and Elizabeth felt a blistering desire rush through her and suddenly she was feverishly hot and almost panting with need.

 The demon chuckled lowly

 “Yes, My Lady.”

 They remained in carnal lust and dark passion reaching ecstasy time and time again, until the demon’s Lady was spent and her mind was at ease.

 

::::::::::

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for all your follows and such. This chapter was a little slow in getting out just because I was never happy with it. Eventually I sorted it and have ended up splitting what was originally one chapter into two as I felt this one should end here. This means that the next one shouldn't take too long to get out, even if both are a little shorter.
> 
> Peace xx


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